


What You Do Afterwards: Season One

by myheadsgonenumb



Series: What You Do Afterwards AU [1]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Allen Francis Doyle Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Monsters, Extreme slow burn, Fix-It, Gen, Rewrite, Season 1, Team Friendships - Freeform, Team as Family, team dynamics more important than romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 145,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myheadsgonenumb/pseuds/myheadsgonenumb
Summary: Post Not Fade Away, higher power Cordy is back on the plane of the PTB and she is bored bored bored! She wants to go home, so she looks for an insignificant moment in time that she can manipulate in order to prevent herself from ever ending up here. One tiny tweak later and Doyle never dies, the rest of season one - and Cordy's whole life - play out differently. A full episode by episode season one rewrite.Canon Divergent 'Doyle lives' fix it fic. Small changes start to snowball.Complete
Relationships: Cordelia Chase/Allen Francis Doyle
Series: What You Do Afterwards AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942738
Comments: 46
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

_There's moments in life that make you, that set the course for who you're gonna be. Sometimes they're little, subtle moments. Sometimes they're not. I'll show you what I mean..._

So here she was: A higher power. This was her life now. Or afterlife. Whatever. It didn't come as much of a surprise to her that she had ascended to the higher planes of existence to oversee the world of mortals. I mean, she was Cordelia Chase, duh! What else was she ever going to be? It was the most natural progression in the world: Queen of the winter ball, messenger, champion, higher power. But God damn, was she bored.

Just like when she had been The May Queen and the head cheerleader and the most popular girl in Sunnydale History, she had always felt something missing; she had always been lonely. So too did higher powerdom feel like the wrong fit. Oh it sounded right, of course: Cordelia Chase, Demigoddess. But it wasn't her and she knew it. She didn't like sitting around watching, she was a woman of action and being forced to observe the lives of her friends - and how terribly they were doing without her (naturally) - was close to torment. At least the torment was better than the boredom.

But this wasn't like the last time, when she had been duped into moving onto the higher planes by that perfidious Skip. This was a forever deal, she could not be rescued by her own, dear boy because this time her physical body was dead, there was no more 'her' to rescue. She was just a spirit, but a very bored one.

As she sat in her perfect, shining pool of pure light and joy (so so tired of it) she scanned the world below. It was sweet that Angel had named his dragon after her, and that the Groosalug had named his horse likewise. She had been honoured, in her short life, to walk with heroes, she had been one herself and she wanted to be one again. She didn't want to be dead for evermore at twenty two. She wanted to be herself again, welcome back to your life, like, it couldn't be so awful if she found a way to circumvent her fate and become herself once more.

Along with the interminable watching of the lower beings, there were precisely two things that Cordelia could do. She could view the entire past of people she cared about - the way she had viewed Angel's life, before his soul, last time she had been here. That had scared her more than she could have believed: she had met Angelus, after all; he had stalked Buffy and killed Miss Calendar; she thought she knew what to expect... but she had been wrong. So she had been frightened off looking into the lives of everyone else she loved, now that she had returned to the higher plane.

Her other power was the ability to make very slight, infinitesimal changes to the world beneath her, if it would help the powers of good. Once, she had managed to save Angel's destiny by nudging a slot machine into giving him the jackpot. One tiny little prod from her and Angel was returned to The Powers as a champion and countless other destinies had been saved besides. It couldn't hurt if she helped herself a little bit, also.

Because no one was going to try and save her this time, and no evil former power that was was going to send her back. If Cordelia was going to get home, she would have to rescue herself. Most of her life she had relied on exactly one person: the most determined, resourceful, resilient person she had ever met. That person just happened to be her. She was Cordelia Frickin Chase and she was going to get herself home.

So she stopped watching the world burn below her and turned her eyes onto the past, her past: looking for one, tiny, insignificant event that she could manipulate from here. A little, subtle moment that could change the course of everything and let her be Cordelia once more...


	2. A Little, Subtle Moment

Quietly, so as not to attract attention from the others, Rief slung his last few items of clothes into his backpack. Most of his paltry belongings were already gathered together, ready for the big run away. It was a matter of moments to gather the last of it and make for the door.

'Where are you going?' His little sister had appeared behind him, her large eyes begging with him to stop.

'I'm leaving'

'We're all leaving, together … The Promised One said …'

'There isn't any promised one,' Rief bit back at her, bitterly. 'And I'm not staying here to get killed with the rest of you.'

He glanced into the next room, where he could see the half breed friend of The Promised One talking to his father. Rief hated him. He didn't even know him and he hated him. This man was a half demon too, just like Rief and his family, but he had a human face. He was passing, the way Rief's mother had, this man could just walk down the street and no one would ever know that a monster had passed them by. In fact, Rief was willing to bet what little he had that the pretty girl, who had been here earlier, didn't even know this man was a demon, not judging by the way she had reacted to the family of Listers. It wasn't just strangers this man could fool: he could have normal friends and lie to them too. Rief could never have that. His whole choice was to either live amongst demons who hated him for his human side, or live amongst humans who were afraid of his demon side. So much of a choice.

This man didn't understand and his friend couldn't save them. The Promised One … so all the hopes of the Lister Clan, their very lives, were going to come down to this: a human girl, a passing half breed and a friendly vampire, against all the legions of The Scourge. No. Rief wasn't going to stick around and die. His family could put their faith in myths and legends if they wanted to, but this was getting too real. They needed a real solution, not a bedtime story about a mythic saviour. Rief's solution was to run. If he felt bad about abandoning his people, if he felt sadness at their impending deaths, he was too angry to show it.

He shouldered his backpack and stormed out of the room, heading down the corridor. 'Rief, please!' His sister had followed him out of the room and stood in the doorway, still pleading, 'don't go!'

He reached the door and yanked it open

'Rief, wait!'

As he crossed the threshold, Rief felt himself run up against an invisible force; as if there was something unseen blocking his pathway. He faltered and came to stop and, as he did, he felt a great, glowing light take hold of him; cleansing him from the inside; removing all his fear and bitterness and leaving calm and courage in its place. He experienced a moment of pure, shining peace and joy and then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

Seeing him stumble and come to a halt, his sister left the doorway of their room and followed him, trying one last time to make him stay with her. 'Rief, please don't leave me,' she begged, reaching out to touch him as he stood there, unmoving. Feeling her small, warm hand in his, Rief turned around and looked at his sister 'OK', he said, 'I'll stay'.

He followed her back inside and rejoined his family, hearing the half demon tell them that the human girl was currently scoping out a ship and would call when she had confirmed their passage with the captain. The Lister Clan waited tensely, willing the human girl to call her demon friend.

...

Meanwhile, a thousand worlds away and five years in the future, a certain higher power watched a subtle moment in history change the course of her entire life. She smiled proudly to herself and then winked out of existence.

_No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So, what are we. helpless? Puppets? Nah. The big moments are gonna come, you can't help that_ _**.** _ _It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are..._


	3. Hero: Part One

'Well it's not exactly the love boat is it?' Cordelia stood on the gangway and looked out across the cargo hold with distaste.

'We ship cargo, not people. It won't be comfy but it'll get them where their going,' the Captain replied. 'How many are there?'

'Oh … about twenty, but some are short people, you know, children.'

'We can bring in some blankets.'

Cordelia nodded, 'we'll take it.' She left the gangway and climbed back outside onto the deck, waving her cell phone in the air to encourage a signal. When she had 3 bars she dialled Doyle.

...

The members of the Lister clan jumped when the ringing of Doyle's phone broke the grim silence that had settled on the room. They had all been waiting for this signal, desperately focusing their will onto the little man in front of them - and the girl he had sent to the docks. But, as the anxiety had mounted, the shrill cry of the cell still came as a shock when it pierced the heavy stillness of the room. Doyle, himself, started as he felt the vibrations inside his jacket pocket - and quickly answered the phone, trying to cover his moment of surprise.

'Hey, Cordy. Didya get it?'

'I got it, bring them over… Hey where are you going?'

Doyle looked confused. 'Cordy?' he asked, but he heard the click as she shut off the call. His phone went dead. Shaking his head in bemusement, he decided that last bit had not been aimed at him. He looked at the family of demons, who stared back at him anxiously. 'It's time to go', he said, 'grab your things, we're off.'

...

Cordelia hung up on her call to Doyle and reached out and grabbed the First Mate by his shoulder. 'I said where are you going?' She demanded more forcefully this time. He looked her up and down, and then smiled, holding his hands up in surrender. 'I'm just going to buy some blankets for our passengers.'

'We so don't have time for anyone to leave this ship! Doyle'll get 'em here any minute and then we need to scuttle our butts outta here.'

'Lady, it's a long way to Briole, do you want our passengers to be comfy or not?'

'Well.. I guess…'

'So I'll fetch some blankets, you won't even miss me, I'll be that quick.' He shook her hand off his shoulder and sloped away down the gangplank and onto the slip. Cordelia cursed under her breath. They didn't have time! It would serve this man right if the ship sailed without him...

* * *

Doyle saw the last of the Listers into the back of the truck and then slammed the door on them. He climbed up into the cab where Rief's father sat in the passenger seat. 'We really cannot thank you and your friends enough for what you are doing for us,' the older demon said.

'Ah, protect and serve, it's entirely our bag.'

'It was your friend, the girl, who got this truck, and then spoke to the captain of the ship on our behalf?'

'Yep, our Cordelia's one heck of a woman,' Doyle responded, with a wry smile. 'The best damn secretary a vampire turned detective could hope to have. Y'know as long as you don't expect her to type ... or file … or answer the phone.'

'You have feelings for her,' the Lister demon deduced. Doyle said nothing, but concentrated on the clear road ahead.

'And you have been so good to us as well. Waiting in our hideout put you in grave danger, if The Scourge had arrived … and now you're delivering us across town. We can't even pay you.'

'You'd be surprised just how many of our clients can't pay us, bud, it's amazing we manage to keep the lights on at the office.'

'I begin to wonder if our prophecy was wrong.'

Doyle glanced away from the road to look at the demon elder in surprise. 'Angel's the real deal, I can assure y' of that'

'Forgive me, I didn't mean to say that Angel was not The Promised One. It's just that I feel like we have been given The Promised Three.'

Doyle smiled at the compliment, on behalf of himself and Cordy. 'When we get you onto the ship, and it's set sail safely, then we can have theological discussions on how many promised ones are dancin' on the head of your pin, yeah?' He glanced into the rear view mirror. 'We're well away from your hideout, and there's no sign of The Scourge. We might just make it.'

* * *

Angel stood hidden inside an abandoned building watching the soldiers of The Scourge run down the street, torching cars and destroying everything in their path. The lair of the Lister Clan was just opposite but the truck was gone. Angel had to hope that this meant Doyle had got the family of half demons out safely, otherwise they were in serious trouble. It was clear The Scourge knew where to look, they had found the location of the hideout and entered it, smashing the door down to gain access. Once they were inside, Angel could do nothing but wait. If he weren't a vampire, he would pray fervently that Doyle was not inside. If he weren't a vampire, he would be holding his breath. Standing as still as the grave, he peered through the slats of the door and waited for The Scourge to come back out, willing for them to reemerge empty handed.

The Powers were on his side that night. After a few minutes, the soldiers were back on the street: no Lister demons, no Doyle. 'The half breeds are gone!' He heard. 'Back to headquarters.' The soldiers began to run back down the street, their feet falling in time making a terrifying, thundering, tramping sound that rattled the ground beneath them. He waited until they were a block away. And then Angel emerged from his hiding place. The sound and the smell of the pure blood demons was not hard for a vampire to track, and he ascended to the roof tops to silently follow their progress.

* * *

The truck pulled up to slip 4, screeching to a halt at the walls of the Quintessa. Doyle and the demon elder pushed open their doors, fell out onto the pier, and immediately ran to the back of the truck to open its cargo doors. Twenty frightened Lister demons piled out, clutching their few belongings. 'Have we got everyone?' Doyle shouted. He was suddenly, incongruously, reminded of his days as a third grade teacher: taking his class out on a field trip, having to do constant head counts to make sure an errant child hadn't wandered off. He shook his head and the image of that bright sunny day; the happy 8 year olds at the tar pits; a world of nothing but humans and a happy, human man, with a wife and a job that he loved, dissipated into the reality of the demon infested night.

The large group of demons made their way up the gangplank, and onto the deck. The captain was showing them the way down to the cargo hold. Doyle was the last to get onto the ship, where he met Cordelia. 'You're alive!'

'And you're not happy?'

'I was worried'

'Oh.' He looked pleased. He remembered that what seemed like a hundred years ago, but was actually only that morning, he had been on the very cusp of confessing to her about his demon half on the way to asking her out. She had been worried about him. Perhaps he was in with a chance after all. 'Well, it's all going to be OK now.' He reassured her. 'We just need to get this ship to shove off.'

The captain reappeared next to them, looking worried. 'I don't know what to do,' he said, 'I've got clearance from the harbour master, but I can't find my first mate.'

'I knew it!' Cordelia screeched.


	4. Hero: Part Two

Angel was lurking. Again. It was a good job he had got so much practice in his Sunnydale years because it was taking all his skill to go unnoticed. The Scourge were gathered in a big, abandoned warehouse, listening to a rousing speech from their General.

'The other day I was asked, why hunt the mongrel? Doesn't his very inferiority guarantee that it poses no threat? Won't it die of its own, innate, mortal stupidity? Well I say NEVER! I say we will not stop until every single half breed has been erased and our purity rules this planet.' There were cheers from the crowd. The General continued 'Tonight, the Listers who have eluded us will be destroyed. And we know just where to find them thanks to this good man.' A shifty looking, thickset human sidled to the front. 'First mate on a ship that they think means salvation, not annihilation.' There were chuckles from the assembled, pure blood demons; the human looked around, smirking, pleased with himself for his betrayal. Angel didn't hang around to hear more.

Meanwhile, a giant, glass structure was wheeled onto the platform behind the General. His vampire's hearing allowed Angel to follow what was being said, even as he moved quietly to the door. 'Tonight we will unleash the beacon, the Listers, along with anything else contaminated with human blood, will perish. When the beacon reaches critical mass, and detonates, its cleansing light will reach a quarter mile in every direction… wanna see how it works?'

As he moved through the door and out onto the street, Angel was aware of an intense glare behind him and the screams of a human man dying in agony. He needed to find a phone. He regretted, for once, refusing to accept one of those dreadful, tinny, little cellular devices that Cordelia was always pushing on him. Doyle had taken one. Fortunately, she had at least insisted that he memorise both her and Doyle's numbers, and his memory was more than up for the job. He found a pay phone a block and a half away and rang Doyle.

* * *

'He said he was going to get blankets,' Cordelia was saying to the Captain, when Doyle's phone rang in his jacket pocket once more. 'I told him we _so_ didn't have time, he said we wouldn't even miss him,' she continued as her friend answered his phone.

'Angel man, where are y'?' There was a pause as Angel's voice buzzed away at the other end of the line. 'Uhuh …. Yuhuh…. OK, got it.' Doyle snapped his cell shut. 'We need to shove off,' he told the Captain. 'NOW'.

'But I can't find my first mate.'

'You won't, just do it. C'mon Cordy, we need to get off this ship.'

'But…' 

'DO IT!' He yelled at the Captain, taking Cordelia's hand and pulling her down the gangplank.

'Shouldn't we at least say bye to the ...'

'No time,' he interrupted tersely.

As they reached the slip, the Captain signalled the harbour crew to begin the process of launching them off. Doyle and Cordelia scrambled into the truck and drove off the slipway as the Quintessa was slid into the ocean and began to pull away. The pair paused to watch as the bulky ship began to move.

'D'ya think they'll make it?' Cordelia asked.

'I hope so,' Doyle said, 'but we need to get out of here too, that was Angel on the phone, The Scourge is comin'.'

'What are you waiting for? Drive!'

As the truck containing Doyle and Cordelia drove off in one direction, the trucks carrying The Scourge troops came roaring into the harbour from the other.

'GO GO GO,' yelled Cordelia. Doyle floored it and, as the pedal hit the metal, their little truck disappeared around the corner and out of sight of the pure demon army.

As Doyle concentrated on driving out of the harbour and putting as much distance between themselves and The Scourge as possible, Cordelia watched the mirrors anxiously. 'If they know someone helped the Listers, they'll come looking for us.'

'If we can jus' get far enough away we'll be impossible to track, Princess.'

They screeched out of the harbour and onto the roads, heading back inland into the city. 'If we can just put a few blocks between us…'

Cordelia screamed as a Scourge truck appeared in her mirror 'DOYLE! What do we do?'

'Hang on, Princess,' Doyle took the next right at breakneck speed, tyres squealing. At the next intersection he turned right, again. The Scourge truck still seemed to be gaining on them.

'Aren't we headed back to the harbour now?'

'I'm jus' tryin' to shake 'em,' he replied, abruptly changing direction once more.

The truck raced through the streets, ignoring every traffic light it passed. 'If we live through this, i'm gonna lose my license when all these tickets hit the truck hire place' Cordelia moaned.

'Don't worry, If we live through this, I won't make you take the fall. I'll tell em I was driving.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' The two of them shared a smile, as they ran another red. Horns of the crossing cars blared at them, but it didn't matter. They were headed into busier traffic and that was allowing distance to build up between them and their pursuers. As they hit civilisation, they saw the Scourge truck pull back. The pure blood demon army did not want to operate in the middle of the human world. They talked a big game, but they preferred to dwell in the shadows.

'We just need to find somewhere we can abandon the truck,' Doyle said, breathing heavily from all the exertion.

'Oh hey, no, _what?_ Abandon? We're not abandoning it! It's one thing to get so many tickets I won't drive again 'til I'm 30, but I'm not being accused of _stealing_ a truck!'

'Just for now, we can reclaim it in the morning, I just don't want it parked outside the office all night in case The Scourge keep on looking'

'Oh, that's OK... I guess.'

He screeched the truck into an alley beside a nightclub and the two of them jumped down from the cab. Cautiously, they peered around the edge of the alley, checking that their tail was in fact lost, and then together they melted into the street scene, two humans amongst many. Safety in numbers.

* * *

As they made their way back to the office, the more distance they put between themselves and the truck, the safer they felt. Cordelia had threaded her arm through Doyle's as they walked and their pace had slowed; becoming less a mad dash and more a comfortable amble, as time went on. Doyle was enjoying imagining that any passersby would be mistaking them for a couple. Cordelia had other thoughts on her mind.

'Doyle? Where did you learn to be a getaway driver?'

'Ah, d'ya really want to know the answer to that one, darlin'?'

She laughed 'I guess I probably don't, no. Doyle? Could we just ring the truck place tomorrow and tell them it was stolen? We wouldn't have to go back for it and you wouldn't have to lose your license.'

'Y'know that's not a bad idea, you're quite the Machiavelli, y'know that?'

'Duh! I bet cop Kate could handle the police paperwork for us, so we'd be barely making a false claim.'

'You're as brilliant as you are beautiful, Princess.'

'Doyle, pay attention'

'I am payin' attention, you've just saved me from a six month driving ban, I could kiss ya!'

She swatted him on the chest in faux annoyance, and they were both still laughing as they climbed the steps to the office.

* * *

Inside, Angel was waiting for them. He looked surprised to see how happy they appeared. 'Well, you two seem to be having a good evening,' he said sardonically, eyebrows raised. 'I was worried.'

'We got into a car chase with The Scourge, but we're OK now, man.'

'Yeah, it turns out if you ever need someone to drive the car when you rob a bank, Doyle, here, is your guy. And I thought I was badass driving my car through the school halls and up to the library that one time.' There was a pause whilst the two men digested this tidbit of information about Cordelia's past and wondered what to do with it. Doyle shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. 'Did you check the harbour after The Scourge left?' He asked 'Did the Listers get away?'

The ship had sailed successfully. Angel had watched it disappear into the distance. The Lister clan would find safety on Briole. But The Scourge would still need taking care of.

'Well I'm beat,' Cordelia announced. 'Can we take care of the uber evil tomorrow? I need some beauty sleep.' And yawning, she left the office, leaving the two men alone.

'Well, I guess I should be heading off, too,' said Doyle, hauling himself up off the green sofa.

'Doyle.' Angel spoke just as the smaller man was about to leave, he whirled back around in the doorway.

'Yeah, man?'

'We need to find out where The Scourge are headed next and stop them. I didn't say in front of Cordelia, but they have a weapon of mass destruction. We can't let them disappear into the underworld with it.'

'Well, we'll find them, but … tomorrow, yeah?'

'Doyle, I hate to ask it, but…' Angel left his sentence dangling, waiting for his friend to work out the ending.

'You need me to get in touch with my old contacts, right?'

'I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary.'

'OK, bud, but if this stirs up any... past resentments, I'll be relying on you to help me out.'

'Count on it.'

The two friends exchanged smiles of understanding; of recognition of the dangerous lives they led and the rocky path to redemption they were both following. Then Doyle left the office to head back out into the night, and Angel took the slow elevator downstairs to his underground sanctuary.


	5. Parting Gifts: Part One

'You try our patience, lower being,' the brother Oracle repeated, pacing the ground in front of Angel, crossing paths with his sister as she did the same. The Oracles never just stood still and told you what was going on. Instead it was all pacing and riddles and 'lower beings'. Angel tried to maintain his patience, if he had been human he would have taken a deep, calming breath. Sometimes he missed the little rituals people could do to help them through a tough situation. 'You said something was coming. Soldiers of darkness,' he reminded them. 'Well, the soldiers of darkness came, they saw, they very nearly conquered and then they went away again, and I'd really like to find them. Now.'

'The soldiers of darkness were to have been vanquished last night,' the sister Oracle said, clasping the gift Angel had brought her to her chest. 'Is it not so?' She tilted her golden head to one side, her dark eyes gazing at him in a disconcerting fashion, like she could see right through to his soul.

'The Lister demons escaped but so did The Scourge. And they have the beacon,' Angel replied heavily.

'The beacon was not destroyed last night?' The brother Oracle managed to sound surprised, or as surprised as these two ever managed. Their ineffable Greek God schtick was ruffled for a moment, and the sister held up her hand, as if listening to something far away. After a while she spoke:

'The auguries say that the mortal world is in a state of flux. Something that was not meant to be has come to pass. The beacon survives because he that would destroy it survives also. That beacon must be destroyed, lower being. It was fated, and so it must be. A very high power has altered the course of your destiny. The auguries will not reveal which power takes so bold an interest in the lives of the lower beings.'

'OK, but how…'

'Your time here is past,' the brother Oracle announced and, with a single, fluid hand gesture from the immortal siblings, Angel was flung back out into the atrium where Doyle was waiting for him.

'Did it work, What they say?'

Angel righted himself, still looking at the gateway for lost souls as he answered, slowly. 'All the usual mumbo jumbo, something's wrong. Destiny was changed last night and they won't say how but it's our job to destroy the beacon…'

'And they won't say how?'

'Exactly. Looks like we're back to relying on your contacts to find The Scourge.'

'Man, I knew they would let us down, if they didn't turn us into toads first. Now I'm gonna get my legs broken by demons I owe money to! If I'm lucky!' Doyle was still complaining as the pair of them headed back into the tunnels to return to the office.

* * *

As he exited the elevator into Angel's office, Doyle caught a glimpse of Cordelia through the big window that separated the two rooms that made up Angel Investigations. She was pouring herself some coffee and she was bored, he could tell just by looking at her. After the excitement of the previous night, she had been left alone at the office to report the truck missing whilst the the two men had gone to see The Oracles.

'Hey, Cordy,' he said from the doorway. She looked up as she poured the coffee. 'Hey Doyle, you want some?' She proffered the coffee pot in his direction.

'Yeah, OK.' She began to pour a second cup. 'Did you report the truck missing already?'

'Yes, I reported it. The truck hire guy went postal. I got a crime reference number off Kate for the insurance though, we shouldn't be liable for the cost of an entire truck, anyway, which is good because we _so_ do not have the money for that.'

'Ah, they'll probably find it anyways, it's only down town, and there's going to be enough of a ticket trail to lead them right to it.'

'So all's well that ends well, how'd it go with The Oracles?' She handed him his coffee mug, smiling a little shyly as they briefly made contact, skin brushing against skin as the cup exchanged hands.

'Well, we're not toads and that's about all I can say for it.'

'Total bust, huh?'

'Yep … Listen, Cordy,' Doyle swallowed nervously as he watched her return to her place behind the desk. He made up his mind, he was going to tell her and he was going to ask her out afterwards, if she didn't freak. 'Y'know we were talking yesterday, before I got that mind numbing, head splitting vision migraine?... I was going to tell you something...'

Cordelia's face wrinkled up as she cast her mind back as far as the previous morning, trying to remember what felt like a lifetime ago. 'Yuhuh…' she said slowly.

'Well it's just...' he approached her desk as he spoke. This wasn't the first time he'd approached her desk to try and hit on her, but it felt much scarier this time, this time he was actually in with a shot. But he had to tell her his big, half demon, secret first and he had no way of knowing how she would react to that. He was afraid she would reject him out of hand, but he still had to tell her, they'd promised no more secrets. 'You got me thinkin', y'know, about how secrets are bad and whatnot and there's something important that I have to tell y'. '

He was interrupted by an abrupt beeping noise, the alarm on Cordelia's watch was going off. 'Oh shoot, I'm sorry,' she said, 'can this wait? It's just, I have an audition. I'd totally blow it off to talk to you, but it's a national.'

Doyle took a step back, and waved that it was OK for her to go ahead, she grabbed her bag and made for the door. She could feel Doyle's eyes watching her as she left, but she was unaware of the disappointment that was etched into his face.

She opened the door, and screamed. The little demon on the other side of the door screamed as well. 'You frightened me!' he said.

'I frightened you!' repeated Cordelia, incredulously. 'Have you looked in a mirror lately?'

'Every chance I get.' Then he glanced into the office and saw Doyle: 'You're him, right? The vampire with a soul that helps the helpless? You go round helping the, whaddya call' em? Helpless.'

A derisive 'Ha!' from the doorway told Doyle that Cordelia was still listening. 'No, bud, I'm not Angel, but I can get him for ya.'

'Are you OK? You got this?' Cordelia asked.

'Sure thing, Cordy, off you go.'

'Break a leg,' the little demon said, turning to look at Cordelia.

'What?'

'Well, I'm sensing a little performance anxiety, here's a tip for ya, picture everyone in the audience…'

'In their underwear' said Cordelia, boredly, she had heard that pro tip a million times

'Well… I was gonna say _dead_ .. but if that underwear thing works for you...'

Cordelia shook her head in disbelief, 'bye,' she said to Doyle before shutting the door.

Doyle was left with the demon, who was about the same size as him, but with pointy ears, scaly skin, dark rings under his eyes and two little horns peeking out from under his hairline.

'I'll get you Angel', Doyle said.


	6. Parting Gifts: Part Two

Angel took the small demon, Barney, into his office. Barney was talking a dime a dozen as they sat down, irritating Angel as he got to the point of the story.

'I just noticed, it's the middle of the day and you're walking around. Shouldn't you be asleep in your coffin or something?'

'Ugh, coffins. I hate that stereotype. Vampires do not sleep in coffins it's a myth propagated by hack writers and ignorant media. In fact vampires can and do walk around during the day, just as long as we stay out of direct sunlight.' His voice got more angry the longer he spoke. He _really_ hated the vampire stereotypes. 

'OK, OK, I didn't mean to hit any sore spots.'

...

As the vampire and his new client settled down to discuss the case, Doyle closed the door between the two offices and sat out in the entrance way, behind Cordelia's desk. He needed to start making phone calls to his old contacts to see if any of them had a beat on where The Scourge might be headed to next. As he dialled he could still hear the low buzz of conversation next door and pick up the odd phrase that stood out.

'...tracking me down to tell me I won the publisher's clearing house….'

'...you're a cheat'

'I like to think of it as playing to my strengths.'

The dial tone connected and started ringing, It only took a couple of rings for Frankie Tripod to pick up.

'Hey, Frankie, it's Doyle'

Doyle picked up a pen and began absentmindedly scribbling on the pad of paper in front of him, as he listened to the human grifter's lukewarm return greeting. 'Listen, FT, have you heard anythin' about this army of pure blood demons running around … call 'emselves The Scourge…. Yeah we're lookin' to find 'em… No, huh? Talk to Darin McNamara? I'd really rather not have to do that, bud... What's that? Outstanding whats? Ah no, man, you must be mistaken. I absolutely paid that back ...ah, no listen, there goes my other line.'

BAM

Just as he was about to hang up the phone and put an end to an awkward conversation about unpaid debts, he was hit by the unmistakable skull cracking, mind splitting, bone wrenching pain of a vision. His head hit the desk, face down into his scribblings, and the pen he had been holding fell listlessly out of his hand, as his body began to twitch uncontrollably.

As visions went it was even more abstract than usual. Just an ugly, grey, blobby thing. No address, no victim, not even a disembodied feeling of dread. It was like The Powers had just decided to cleave his skull in two purely to show him a pretty picture. It was worse than useless.

His head pounded as he managed to place the phone receiver back into its cradle, cutting off Frankie Tripod's confused voice. He grabbed the bottle of scotch and the tumbler that he kept stashed in desk's bottom drawer and, with a shaking hand, poured himself a generous slug. He tossed it back and poured another. Self medicating with alcohol wasn't good for him, he knew, but he defied anyone to withstand these visions and not hit the bottle.

Angel's office door opened and the vampire stepped into the room. He raised his eyebrows at the bottle of scotch, but he chose not to say anything about it. Doyle looked up at him, opening his mouth to defend himself, but Angel spoke first. 'Barney's being followed by some guy, looking to hurt him. He's an empath demon, uses his powers to cheat people out of money, seems like he might have ticked off the wrong guy. I told him to stay here whilst I go to his place and check things out.'

'You want any help, man?'

'No.' Angel eyed the scotch again. 'Have you had any luck with your contacts?'

'Frankie Tripod's a big no, he gave me a name to check, but it's one I'll only turn to if we're desperate. Listen though, bud, I just had a vision.'

'Another one?' Angel looked relieved to hear that there was a legitimate excuse for Doyle's drinking on the job, but he still didn't mention the scotch. 'What was it?'

'Hell if I know, ugly, grey, blobby thing. No feeling, no faces popping out at me. I don't even know where the damn thing is. Didn't feel urgent though.'

'OK, you stay here with Barney, try and sketch what you saw.'

'Sketch?'

'So we know what we're looking for, fill Cordelia in when she gets back. Once you've sketched it, she can start looking it up and you can go back to your contacts. Keep Barney here, keep him safe.'

As Angel turned to leave, Cordelia waltzed back through the door. 'Hey guys, what did I miss?'

'Doyle'll fill you in', said Angel and he swept off towards the sewer tunnels. Cordelia watched him go 'Not exactly a vampire of many words is he?' She turned to Doyle. 'What's going on?'

* * *

The two of them had taken Barney down into Angel's apartment to wait for the vampire's return. The empath demon was reading a magazine, Doyle was attempting to sketch the subject of his vision and Cordelia was chatting to Doyle about her audition. 'It went OK, I guess, but they always go OK. My trash bag audition was great and I didn't get it. The liquigel audition was fine, and I didn't get that either. They just needed hands for that one, and I still didn't get it. I just feel like maybe I'm wasting my time. D'you think I'm wasting my time?'

'I believe in y', darlin',' answered Doyle, distractedly, frowning down at his sketch pad and turning his pencil over to the eraser end so he could furiously rub out a line. The paper began to crumple under the pressure.

'Well, gee Doyle, that's great. You believe in me. Got any movie directors in that little black book of yours, alongside loan sharks and gangsters?'

Doyle, looked up at her, confused. 'I'm sorry,' she apologised when she saw his expression. 'I didn't mean to take it out on you, I'm just being a cranky miss. But usually when I try to do something I succeed right away, but this is hard ... and it's all starting to feel...'

'Pointless?' It was Barney that had interrupted their conversation. 'Excuse me?' Cordelia asked pointedly. 'This is a private conversation.'

'I'm sorry,' the little demon said, 'I didn't mean to intrude, but I can just feel your despair coming off you in waves.' Cordelia looked confused. 'I'm an empath demon, it's my gift.' Barney explained, Cordelia looked none the wiser. 'I can feel things as you feel them.' Cordelia nodded in understanding and then threw a horrified glance towards Doyle, turning a little bit pink as she looked at him. 'You know in some cultures it's considered rude to butt into other people's personal lives. Keep your feelings out of my feelings.'

Barney chuckled ruefully, 'yeah, it creeps a lot of people out, but I can't switch it off. I tune it out as best I can because it gets a little overwhelming at times, but some stuff is so strong that it comes through loud and clear anyway.' He glanced pointedly between Doyle and Cordelia and then winked broadly at her. She flushed even deeper and turned away from the empath demon, looking to busy herself with anything else.

'Let me see that,' she said grabbing the sketch off Doyle. She turned it upside down, and back again, trying to make sense of the picture. The paper was crumpled and there were holes in it where he had pressed the eraser on too hard. 'What is this supposed to be?' she queried.

'I dunno. It's just what I saw. Angel told me to draw it. It was an ugly, grey, blobby thing.'

'Well this looks like an ugly, grey, blobby mess.' She was aware that Barney was still watching them with interest and she was determined to shut him out. 'This isn't going to help Angel,' she said.

Doyle shifted awkwardly 'I can't draw, OK? It's just not my thing.'

'Well luckily for you, I excel in everything I turn my hand to.' She scrunched up his failed sketch and threw it on the floor. She picked up the pencil and turned to a fresh page on the pad, then she spoke to Doyle. 'You describe, I'll draw.'

He struggled to find the words to explain his vision, as Cordelia was adamant that 'ugly' 'grey' and 'blobby' were not going to help her put together a photofit of what he had seen.

'I guess maybe it had a sphere at the top, like a head? Yeah maybe it was a really abstract person.'

'OK,' she said coaxingly, 'that's good, so maybe like a sculpture or something?'

'Yeah, I guess maybe it was grey because it was stone…'

They worked together, Cordelia carefully drawing out the details from Doyle's memory with questions and then using bold decisive strokes to render the information on the page. It came together pretty well in the end, and Doyle looked at it admiringly, 'Y'know that's not half bad at all, princess, you're quite the artist.'

'Oh yeah, it was sometimes my job to mock up a picture of the demon we were hunting back in Sunnydale. Like the time we thought my boyfriend was going to turn into a fish monster, I had to sketch us a picture of the creature from the blue lagoon that had attacked him.'

Doyle didn't know how to respond to that, so he quietly accepted this new puzzle piece from Cordelia's past that he could put towards the jigsaw image he was attempting to build of her.

'If you don't mind me asking,' Barney interrupted, the pair looked at him, like they did mind very much. 'But what exactly are you two trying to do?'

'Oh,' said Cordelia, 'Doyle has visions of people in trouble and Angel has to save the people, it's our entire business model. We're just trying to work out what his last vision was.'

'Visions?' asked Barney, looking at Doyle with interest. 'That's rare isn't it? What are they like?'

'Great, big, spazz attacks that come with drooling and pictures,' Cordelia answered for him.

'I don't drool!' Doyle protested indignantly.

'Sometimes there's drool.'

Just then the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs signalled Angel's return. He was no longer alone but was followed into the apartment by by a tall, dark, leather clad someone.

'That's him!' Barney yelled in panic, getting to his feet when he saw the leather clad stranger and looking to run. 'That's the guy that's been chasing me!'...


	7. Parting Gifts: Part Three

Angel had taken Barney to one side in an attempt to calm him down and explain what was going on.

'Y'mean that guy isn't after me, he's after the thing that's after me?' Barney tried to get his head around this piece of information.

...

Meanwhile, Doyle was sizing up the newcomer. He was very tall, taller than Angel though not as broad. And he was classically handsome too, with neat dark hair and blue eyes behind glasses, with a straight nose and good jawline. He looked a little incongruous in his motorbike leathers, however. Much to Doyle's chagrin the new man's eyes strayed straight to Cordelia, and stopped there.

'Cordelia! Good Lord! Angel never said anything…'

'Wesley?' Cordelia sounded surprised, but by no means disappointed to recognise their guest. To Doyle's annoyance she got up to greet him enthusiastically. 'It's so great to see you, how've you been?'

'You know this guy, Darlin'?' Doyle asked her, hoping to remind her that he was still there, as well.

'This is Wesley,' she said to Doyle as if this explained everything, her smile big and wide: 'He's Buffy's watcher.'

'Actually I no longer work for the council,' Wesley interjected. 'I felt my talents could be used elsewhere.' He pulled himself up to his full height and said as impressively as he could: 'I work alone now, I'm a rogue demon hunter.'

'Oh,' said Cordelia, taking in this information and then looking a little disconcerted. 'What's a rogue demon?'

Doyle muffled a snort as Wesley looked terribly put out at his failure to impress her.

...

Angel had finished with Barney and interrupted the happy reunion to bark orders at his staff. 'Wesley says he tracked this thing through Korea town, It's a Kungai, they're vicious demons, but he's missing his horn, he's injured so he'll be holed up somewhere. I need to find him. Wesley you stay with Cordelia and look for any info on this thing. Doyle you carry on working on that vision.'

'The hell you say! That demon is mine!' Wesley protested, 'You're not doing this without me at your side.'

'Barney is my client,' said Angel through gritted teeth, squaring up to the taller man. 'It's my job to protect him, which is what I'm gonna do by finding this thing. You do what you're good at and hit the books.' Wesley looked like he was going to continue arguing, until Cordelia stepped up and defused the situation, 'C'mon Wesley, I need you to help me find this thing in the books. Angel's got about a million of the dusty old things, and me and Doyle never know where to start.'

Slightly mollified, Wesley allowed Cordelia to guide him towards Angel's copious library. Angel and Doyle exchanged a glance 'Are you sure, you'll be OK, Angel? Y' want me to come with?' Doyle asked. Angel shook his head, 'work on that vision, we still need to sort that, once Barney's case is over.'

'Will do'

Angel turned and left back up the stairs he had just come down. Doyle decided to head over to Cordelia and Wesley. Not just to stop them from getting too friendly, but because he figured he might find the name of the sculpture from his vision in one of Angel's books, too. Angel had books about lots of things. Most were on demons, but some were about art. As he headed towards the bookcase, Wesley passed him - coming back from the shelves, laden down with a pile of dusty tomes. Doyle eyed him suspiciously and watched as the other man dumped the books on the dining table and then walked back up the stairs, following Angel out. Doyle supposed he should say something, but = hey - it got rid of Cordelia's handsome friend from the old days, and Wesley wasn't a member of team Angel. He didn't have to do what Angel told him.

'Where'd Wesley go?' Cordelia asked, similarly laden with demonic encyclopaedias.

'I think he just left,' Doyle shrugged. 'Did you see any good art books back there, help me identify my vision?' She smiled and plucked the first book off the top of her pile and handed it to him. 'Especially for you' .

'Thanks, princess,' he said, genuinely touched at her thoughtfulness. She snorted. It wasn't ladylike. 'Oh please, you would've wasted half the day back there trying to find what you were looking for, and when you weren't clueless you'd be time wasting. It's much quicker if I just do everything.'

'The lady giveth, and she taketh away,' Doyle smiled, she smiled back at him and they settled down companionably at the dining table, engrossed in their separate tasks but still feeling very much like they were working together.

...

Around the corner, completely forgotten about by the two of them, Barney was making a very hushed phone call. 'Hey Hank, it's me … yes I got the horn, of course I got the horn … but listen, I've just found something a whole lot better. I need you to bring a car to meet me, I'll give you the address…'

He peered around the pillar he was hiding behind, and contemplated the man and the woman working away at the table in front of him. Barney didn't really need empathic abilities to read what was going on between these two, they practically blared their feelings out with every action. But empathic abilities allowed him to fine tune what was important and what was not, and seek out vulnerabilities. He observed their twin, dark heads, seemingly absorbed in their different tasks; but he noticed the way one would occasionally peek over at the other and then immediately look away, how they kept missing the other one looking at them.

Cordelia turned the heavy page of her book over and, as she did, her right hand brushed against Doyle's left. They both tensed and then glanced at one another, making momentary eye contact before returning to their work. This was too easy, thought Barney.

...

He ambled nonchalantly over to the pair of them. 'Hey, Cordelia, honey,' he said, tentatively, nice guy persona firmly in place. Cordelia looked up with an annoyed expression. He didn't know if she was irritated by the interruption or by being called 'Honey' by a relative stranger, but she didn't say anything. 'I could really go for a latte and a doughnut right about now. Would'ya be a doll and fetch me one from the coffee shop across the way?'

Cordelia seemed to ignore Barney and turned to Doyle instead. 'Did Angel say anything about our babysitting service having to include an errand boy service as well?' Doyle smiled at her, warmly 'I'll go for y' if y' like.'

'It's a beautiful day, she doesn't want to be cooped up in the dark on a day like this!' Barney protested. 'Just because she works for monsters doesn't mean she should have to hide away from the daylight too.' Doyle sat bolt upright at that and Barney smirked to himself, he had been right, he thought. But Cordelia didn't seem to notice the plurality and she just rolled her eyes. 'Fine, I'll go, already, but this is going on your final bill, buddy.' Both men watched her as she left, one set of eyes admiring, the other calculating.

* * *

Angel had tracked the Kungai to a massage parlour in Korea town, the massive demon was in pretty bad shape. Angel spoke enough Korean to understand the old lady tending to the demon as she told him that the Kungai was dying. Sadly, he did not speak any of the Kungai's language, but the demon was desperately trying to tell him something.

'I'm sorry, I don't understand, I don't speak your language,' he told the injured Kungai.

'I think I do,' Wesley appeared through the door. He had changed out of his ridiculous leathers and was now wearing a cream, linen suit; which he looked much more comfortable in. 'I can translate what he is saying.'

...

It seemed for a while that maybe Wesley had oversold his linguistic ability as he struggled to translate what the dying demon was saying. 'Take the cherry … no no … slam the cherry … no...' But eventually, just as the Kungai breathed his last, Wesley was able to decipher three words ' demon … heart … reader'. He turned, confused, to Angel: 'demon heart reader?'

'An empath demon!' Angel realised. 'Barney!'

* * *

Once Cordelia was gone, Barney turned to face Doyle, who looked at him inquiringly. 'Is there anything else I can get for y'?' he asked.

'No… no,' Barney said, touching the book Cordelia had left behind. Having run his hands across it, he picked it up to feel it's weight. 'It's a big book she's reading, here,' he said. Doyle grunted in reply. 'She doesn't know does she?' Barney asked. Doyle looked up. 'No, I didn't think she did, now why haven't you told her?' Doyle opened his mouth to reply, but realised he didn't have a good answer to that particular question.

'I can answer for you,' Barney continued, seeing the other man at a loss for words. 'You're afraid', he hissed. 'And you should be, you think a gorgeous girl like that's gonna wanna make time with a demon? You'd be punching well above your weight even if you were human, you're not exactly in the same league, looks wise, and you know it. Angel, now - he's in her league, or that new guy, Wesley. What accent has he got? British? I hear the girls really go for those. They go for yours, Doyle? You think Cordy likes leprechauns?' Doyle was confused. He felt he should say something to defend himself, but he just couldn't work out why Barney was suddenly going for him like this. His bewilderment was overriding his ability to come up with a witty retort.

But Barney wasn't done with him: ' Oh I've been watching the pair of you, seen the sparks fly between you. She doesn't seem to care what a pathetic, short, drunk, little loser you are. She's lonely, you see. She's used to being the Queen bee, adored by every male that comes across her. And now she is one, beautiful girl in a city swimming with beautiful girls; no one special after all. She's willing to cling to whatever driftwood floats past her, and that's you, buddy. When she can't afford to pay her bills, when she's missing her old life, when she's failed _yet another_ audition; the way you look at her is the only thing she has to buoy herself back up again. The one bit of male attention she has left. Imagine how ashamed and disgusted she'll be when she finds out that the only man willing to spend time with her is just another revolting demon.'

Doyle had got to his feet during this tirade, wanting to make Barney stop, wanting to unhear the words that were his most desperate fears spoken aloud. The two men were the same size and they looked at each other, eye to eye. 'Now, listen here, bud ..' Doyle began, furiously. But, rather than let him finish, Barney swung Cordelia's hefty tome straight into Doyle's face. Everything went black.

...

He pulled the cord out of the telephone and then used it to tie Doyle's hands together behind his back. It was merely a precaution, the small half demon was completely still and lifeless. Barney then hefted Doyle's dead weight and half carried, half dragged him to the sliding doors that opened onto the underground car park, where Hank was waiting for him with his car.


	8. Parting Gifts: Part Four

Cordelia ran into a panicked Angel and Wesley as she returned to the office, laden down with coffees and doughnuts. As it was going on Barney's tab, she had decided to treat herself and Doyle to something nice as well. 'Cordelia, Thank God! Where are Doyle and Barney' Angel demanded when he saw her.

'They're downstairs in your apartment, why?' Angel and Wesley rushed through the office and down the stairs. 'Hey, what's going on?' she shouted after them. As she came down the stairs, she saw them stopped dead in the middle of the room, the apartment was empty and there were signs of a struggle. 'He's taken Doyle,' said Angel. 'He took the Kungai horn because it can absorb life force and now he's taken Doyle because he's a seer - what is he going to do with them?'

As much as he was feeling frantic, he knew he had to remain calm, he couldn't save Doyle by panicking. And - as he saw the reactions of the others, he knew it would be down to him to hold it all together.

'Oh my God!' cried Cordy, her eyes were wide and horrified as she understood the danger she had inadvertently put her friend in. 'This is all my fault, I told that creep about Doyle's visions and then I left him alone with him, what have I done?'

'I'm a fraud.' Wesley's desperation was quieter than Cordelia's, but no less intense. 'All this time I've been following the wrong demon.' His incompetence came as a crushing blow, all this time he had been telling himself that he was getting the job done, that he was proving to the world, and his father, that what happened in Sunnydale had not been his fault. But here was irrefutable proof that everything the senior watchers had said to him was true. And it was Angel and Cordelia's friend that would pay the price of his blundering, this time. 'No wonder the council fired me. I had two slayers in my care. Two. One slayer turned evil and now vegetates in a coma. The other is a renegade. Fire me? I'm surprised they didn't cut my head off.'

'Pull it together you two,' Angel snapped, trying to refocus them. 'Cordelia, Barney fooled us all, Doyle as well, you couldn't have known. And Wesley, without you I couldn't have translated the Kungai's words. Now we need to find Doyle. Wesley, there's that one word I need you to translate, it might be key. Cordelia, this could be what Doyle's vision was about, how was the work on that going?'

'The ugly, grey, blobby thing,' she gasped. She snatched up the sketch she made according to Doyle's description and thrust it under Angel's nose. 'This is what he said he saw. We think it's some kind of sculpture.'

'It's the 'Maiden With Urn',' Angel said immediately, 200 years worth of knowledge and an unusually good memory coming to his aid. 'Cordelia, we're going to find out where this sculpture is kept, Wesley look up that phrase!'

The three of them set to work immediately, trying to stave off the panic and keep their minds clear so that they could better help Doyle. Angel and Cordelia surfed the net looking for the location of the Maiden With Urn, whilst Wesley muttered to himself, feverishly leafing through the book that had recently been used to knock out Doyle.

'It belongs to a hotel chain, but there are a few of them in the L.A area, we need to narrow it down…' Cordelia was saying when Wesley's loud 'of course' cut through her words. They both looked expectantly at the British man. 'I know what it means! The last Kungai word. It's 'caller sale'! It translates as auction.'

'They're going to auction Doyle's visions,' said Angel.

'How…?' Cordelia didn't understand

'They're going to sell his eyes.'

'Let's go!' and the three of them fled the apartment and tumbled into the car, praying they would strike gold at the first hotel they tried.

* * *

'Sold, to the lady in front!' Barney was having a great time, auctioning off his ill gotten gains and making lots of money in the process. 'And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have something really special for you today. A once in a lifetime opportunity. Lot 22, I give you the eyes ... of a seer.' There was an audible intake of breath from the bidders.

Doyle was manhandled onto the stage by Hank. He gulped in anxiety when he saw the array of people and demons and unidentifiable creatures sitting in the room, waiting to buy his eyeballs. No one seemed remotely perturbed that a human being was being sold off, the excited murmurings told him they were just intrigued by his rare and special gift. 'Let's start the bidding at 12000,' Barney was saying, 'anyone want to bid 12000?'

A humanish, but not quite, looking man raised his paddle. '12000 here, do I hear 12 50?' A large demon with long white hair, sitting next to the first bidder raised his own paddle. '12 50, do I hear 13?' The bidding continued between humanoid and whitey. '13, can I get 13 50? 13 50, can I get 14?' Humanoid looked put out, he didn't want to go that high 'I'm still at 13 50, can I hear 14?' Humanoid shook his head. _Angel, man please get here soon_ Doyle prayed. 'Going at 13 50, going once … going twice …'

'15000.' A smartly dressed woman at the front raised her paddle, just as the gavel was going down. 'Sold,' Barney cried triumphantly, 'for 15000 dollars, to the lovely lawyer of Wolfram and Hart.'

Doyle was then dragged off backstage, where the lawyer was waiting to collect him. 'We don't need the rest of him, just his eyes will do,' she instructed Barney.

'That's going to cost you,' Barney told her.

'Don't be ridiculous, extraction is always included in the price.'

'Not with seer's eyes.'

'I've never heard of such a thing.'

'There's never been a thing like this on the market before, an extra thou for extraction.'

'Fine,' the lawyer acquiesced, 'just get me his eyes, mind you don't damage the gift.'

...

Doyle was thrown into a chair, and held down, even though he struggled with all his might. He switched to his demon face and headbutted Hank, who howled with pain as the spikes gouged into his skin. But Barney was having none of it. He pinned Doyle against the chair, roughly holding him in a vice like grip. 'Hank, stop messing around and tie him up.'

Still bleeding from the face, Hank began to tie Doyle into place. Doyle bucked and writhed as much as he could, but Barney's grip was too strong. 'Gentlemen this is getting embarrassing', the lawyer told them impatiently. Once the half demon was secure, Barney gave him one final blow about the head, before bringing his extraction tool right up to Doyle's red, demon eyes. Barney looked at the spikes and the green skin and smirked. 'Oh, no. Pretty Cordelia would not have liked this face at all, would she? But don't worry, she'll never have to see it now. Try not to scream,' he added as he brought the sharp point up, and held it directly in front of Doyle's right pupil. 'This is only going to hurt a lot.'

BAM. One of the security guards went flying and Barney retracted his dangerous implement and stood up to see what the ruckus was. _Oh Thank God, Angel found me_. He couldn't see what was happening as the door was behind him, but he was aware of the sound of furious fists flying. 'Doyle!' He heard Cordelia's anxious voice, and immediately he morphed back into his human face, before she could see his demon half, silently thanking providence for Barney tying him up with his back to the door. 'Hang on Doyle, I'll get you out of here.' She picked up the Kungai horn and began to saw through Doyle's ropes with it. 'Don't worry, Angel and Wesley will take care of these guys.' There was a loud crash, the cause of which Doyle couldn't see. 'Ouch' gasped Cordelia in sympathy, 'Well ... Angel will take care of these guys, anyway.' She cut through the last rope.

Freed from his bonds, Doyle launched himself at Barney. The pair of them were evenly matched and they rolled over and over on the floor, desperately fighting to gain the upper hand. Eventually, Barney landed on top, and he wielded the extraction device once more, bringing it perilously close to Doyle's eyeball.

'Feel this, feeling Creepo', Cordelia yelled and plunged the Kungai horn she was still holding into Barney's back. Barney pulled away from Doyle and reached behind him as if to pull the horn out, but he stiffened up and shuddered and then seemed to collapse in on himself as the horn drained the life force from him. When Doyle rolled over off his back, he saw that Barney had become nothing more than a black smear on the floor and Cordelia was stood staring at it, looking mildly impressed with what she had done.

Then she launched herself at him and threw her arms around him. 'I'm so sorry I left you alone with him, I'm sorry I told that creep about your visions! Can you ever forgive me?'

'Cordy, you can't think I blame you for this? You saved me!'

'Well ... Angel helped a little.'

The pair turned to watch Angel whaling on the last of the security guards. The Wolfram and Hart lawyer had long since disappeared. Wesley was lying unconscious on the ground, near the door.

'Well I guess all's well that ends well after all,' said Cordelia.

'It's been a hell of a 24 hours,' agreed Doyle.

* * *

The team sat together in Angel's kitchen. Angel was cooking eggs. Wesley, fully conscious once more, was packing up to go.

'So how much did they sell you for in the end anyway?' Cordelia was asking.

'15000 dollars to Wolfram and Hart.'

'Pffft, I'd have gone for much more if it had been me.'

'I don't doubt that for a moment, princess.'

Wesley had finally finished gathering his things. 'Well, Angel, it's been a pleasure working with you,' he said. Angel shook his hand: 'make sure you keep in touch'

'Yes, well, no rest for the wicked fighters, off I go'

'Do you know where you're headed?' asked Doyle

'Oh, us rogue demon hunters rarely do, wherever we're needed, wherever there's evil afoot, that's where I'll be.'

'Bye then,' called Cordelia

'Through cold and dark and deep, gnawing hunger…' Wesley said, giving the eggs a longing look.

'Wesley?' Angel asked 'Would you like to stay for breakfast?'

'Oh, I don't mind if I do' the British man said - and sat down at the table with Doyle and Cordelia, who shared a secret smile between themselves at Wesley's expense. The day was saved and breakfast was served.


	9. Somnambulist: Part One

_A woman ran through the night, terrified. The moonlight shone brightly, reflected in the puddles she splashed through, as she fled deeper into the city; seeking safety. She screamed as a man stepped out in front of her, forcing her to a stop. He grabbed her and her eyes went wide in fright. There was a sudden flash of silver as the man extended a metal claw and cut the woman's face. As a trail of blood trickled down her cheek, he yanked her head to one side and bit down hard on her neck, gorging himself on her life force. The wail of sirens was heard in the distance and Angel looked up from his victim's neck, blood dripping down his fangs._

_..._

In his apartment, Angel woke up with a start, sweating profusely. Realising he was still at home, he slumped back down into his bed and began to brood on his dream.

* * *

Cop Kate was having a bad night. It was the early hours of the morning and she wanted to go home but there had been a call out, another murder. She examined the body: a woman, dumped in a puddle under a bridge; a horrible, lonely place to die. Her blood had been drained, just like the last two. The detective rolled the body gently so she could get a better view of the woman's face. There it was. A Christian cross carved into her left cheek. 'Detective Lockley? Is it the same guy?' one of her men asked.

'It's the same guy' she confirmed. 'Third victim… this guy's just getting started.'

* * *

Doyle arrived early at the office that morning and went straight downstairs to find Angel. 'Angel, man, you around?' he called as he reached the bottom step. A groan from the direction of the bedroom told the half demon that he had managed to arrive at work before his boss was even up yet. The vampire appeared through the door wearing nothing but his black boxers and red, silk robe. 'What is it?' he asked, rubbing his face with one hand. His hair, normally so perfectly coiffed, stood out in all directions. 'What do you want?'

'Are you OK, man? you looked wrecked!' For a ridiculously handsome man, the vampire managed to look terrible, with dark rings under his eyes and a pastier than usual pallor to his skin.

'I'm just not sleeping well at the moment, that's all,' Angel mumbled, rubbing his face again as he spoke. 'Did you want something?'

'Yeah, well, I've been ringing round my contacts like you asked.'

'And?'

'Nothin', so far, man. Johnny Red, Kizzie, Manny the Pig, all comin' up zero.'

'That's it?'

Doyle took a deep breath. Angel, it seemed, was unusually tetchy when he was missing out on sleep. 'They all keep givin' me the same name, Angel. Seems like only one man might have the contacts to keep tabs on The Scourge and not end up dead. Guy named McNamara. But I don't want to talk to him on account of him being bad news.'

'Doyle, we need to find that beacon and destroy it, do what you have to do.'

'I owe the guy money…' Doyle admitted, a little shamefaced about the fact.

'Doyle!'

'OK, OK', he held his hands up in surrender, 'I'll see what I can do.'

Angel turned on his heel and went back into his bedroom. The noise of a dead weight hitting a mattress made it sound suspiciously like the vampire had gone straight back to bed. Doyle left him to it and went back upstairs to see if Cordy had arrived yet.

* * *

'I believe in Los Angeles. It's the city of dreams, a mystical oasis built from a desert. But even Sunny blonde L.A has its dark trashy roots. And you've learned that the hard way haven't you. You've gone to the police, but they can't help you. And now you've come to us, your last resort... '

Doyle stood in the doorway of the two offices, his arms folded across his chest and his shoulder resting on the door frame. An amused, appreciative smile was playing on his face as he watched Cordelia give the hard sell to an empty chair. 'Cordelia, what are you doin'?'

Cordelia straightened up from the threatening, looming position she had adopted to intimidate the desk chair. She hadn't noticed she wasn't alone any more and she was flustered and embarrassed to be caught out interrogating thin air by Doyle.

'I'm just, y'know … practising.'

'Practisin'?'

'My questioning technique … for if we ever get any clients.'

Doyle found himself smiling again. He might not be having much luck asking her out, but having someone as unpredictable as Cordelia in his life certainly made everything seem rosier. 'Well I can't help much with the threats and such … but if you want my advice…'

'Ha!'

'You gotta play to your strengths when you're interviewing a client.'

'My strengths… right,' mused Cordelia. '...What are my strengths?'

Doyle sat down in the empty chair that she had so recently been grilling and put both his feet up on the desk. She threw his shoes a filthy look, but he left them where they were, if she actually minded she would say so. She didn't like to keep her thoughts to herself. 'The thing of it is, Darlin' you're a very pretty girl, and I'm not sayin' that to flatter y'.'

'So why are you saying it?' she asked tightly, like she might have hopes this was going somewhere, but then maybe that was just Doyle's hopes projecting.

'When people see a pretty, young thing like you then their gonna expect sympathy, face like yours it seems natural.' Cordelia snorted derisively. 'Well, they don't know you like I know you, Princess, but people see you and they see someone they think they can open up to, tell their problems to, like.' She looked at him expectantly, waiting to see where he was headed with this. He drew a deep breath and continued. 'D'ya remember last week when you helped me draw that sculpture thingy from my vision?' She nodded. 'Well you were able to get me to remember all those details that I couldn't think of for myself, just by listening, and encouraging and a few questions here and there, no threats and intimidation necessary.' He stretched his arms out expansively to make his point, 'and in the end it saved the day that little sketch of ours, without it I'd be eyeless Joe the visionless wonder. You can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar, darlin'. I just don't think the Dirty Harriet routine is really you.'

'So you think I should pretend to be nice, and I'll get more info out of the clients?' she asked. He swung his legs back down to the floor, so he could lean towards her. She seemed to hold her breath as he moved into closer proximity. 'Ah, I don't think you really need to pretend, Cordelia.' He smiled at her. She smiled back, biting her lip, her eyes cast down a little as she tried to hide how much his last words had pleased her.

Then Wesley walked through the front door.

'Hello all,' The British man announced to the room, oblivious to any moment he might have interrupted. 'I was just passing by and thought we could compare battle notes from our respective fronts.'

Doyle leaned back in his chair, moving further away from Cordelia. She too shifted in her seat to gain more distance from him, but she didn't seem happy about it. 'Well, what do you have to report?' she asked, sounding a little snippy.

'Everything … seems … quiet.'

'Uhuh,' she said, rolling her eyes at Doyle who grinned back at her. 'Well thanks for stopping by, that's so much help.'

'Well what about your end of the good fight? Any demons? Any visions?' Wesley raked his eyes over Doyle at that point.

'Nope, no head splitting migraines this week, thanks for asking,' the half demon replied. 'Did you want anything else, Wesley?'

'Well, I brought your post in.'

'Thanks,' Cordelia reached out and grabbed it and started sorting through.

'Yes, well I'll keep myself available then, the situation can only escalate. You know we made quite an effective team last week taking on that empath creature. Doyle's cryptic visions, Cordelia's research, Angel's brawn, my highly developed powers of deduction rounding out…'

'This isn't our mail,' Cordelia interrupted. 'See, this belongs to the dentist's office across the hall.' She handed the mail back to Wesley, who began to apologise profusely before trailing off and going quiet as he looked at the bundle in his hand.

'Everything OK, there bud?' Doyle asked

'Yeah, you stopped yammering for like two seconds, what's up?'

'Nothing … I'll get this back to the dentist's office.' And Wesley beat a hasty retreat from the office. Doyle and Cordelia looked at each other and shrugged, relaxing into a companionable silence that was shattered when Angel came up in the elevator and slammed the gateway loudly.

'Was someone here?' he asked.

'No,' said Cordelia, 'Well, only Wesley … he left.'

Angel walked over to the coffee pot and started to pour himself a cup. Cordelia spoke again 'Hey, Angel? Remember that license plate from the runaway case?'

'I remember I asked _you_ to run it.'

'No can do, the DMV is totally stalker phobic, I thought maybe you could get cop lady to run it.'

'Kate,' Angel held out his hand for the license plate number. He still didn't look any better than he had down stairs, though he had put some clothes on now, at least.

'Hey Angel, are you OK?' Cordelia asked. 'You look half dead.' Angel glared at her. 'Which for someone who's totally dead is ... kinda neat,' she finished, looking to Doyle for back up.

'She's not wrong, man, you're not usually…' he gestured round his own eyes, 'with the eye bags.'

'You look less than fresh,' Cordelia added helpfully.

'I told you I'm not sleeping,' Angel said. 'I'll take this to Kate.' He made to walk through the front door.

_**'** Angel!'_ both his employees cried in unison, and a moment later Angel reeled back into the office, smoking slightly, having been hit full on with day light.

'I'll take the sewers,' he announced and stalked back to the elevator, slamming the gate once more.

'Is it me, or is he weird?' asked Cordelia

'He's weird,' confirmed Doyle, looking concerned.

* * *

Out in the communal hallway, Wesley lurked, having been listening in to the conversation team Angel were having. He wore a very troubled expression on his handsome face...


	10. Somnambulist: Part Two

Kate was agreeing to run the license plate, she was pointing out that she shouldn't and Angel was being as effusive as he knew how in his thanks. Which was mildly appreciative at best. 'To be honest it'll be a relief to get my head out of this case for a while', she said as she sat back down behind her desk.

'Tough one?' Angel asked.

'The worst, three victims, same killer. And do you know what they have in common? What he did to them, nothing else.'

'That's not true, they have you.'

She smiled at him, but the moment was interrupted when a police officer handed her a file. 'Here's the latest victim, Detective Lockley.'

'Thanks.' She opened the manilla folder, a crime scene photo of a dead woman lay on the top, her neck punctured by two deep wounds and a cross carved into her left cheek. Angel stared, he felt like he was having a flashback, or a living nightmare. It was the woman from his dream.

'Gruesome, huh?' Kate said, seeing him staring. 'We need to catch this guy, the papers are calling him 'The Pope' … probably thinks he's doing God's work.'

'It's the opposite of that,' Angel said without thinking, and then wished he hadn't. 'This is about mocking God, taunting him.' Kate raised her eyebrows at his definitive statement . 'That would be my guess… anyway,' he finished, trying to backtrack.

'They're ready for you, Detective Lockley.' The officer had returned and Kate stood up behind her desk, Angel stood with her. 'It's time for me to deliver the briefing, 'she glanced towards the briefing room as she continued to speak 'So I'd better…' she looked back at her desk. Angel was already halfway out of the squad room '...go.'

* * *

It was to a grim faced room that she delivered her briefing. Her officers were tired, and they wanted this guy stopped, but there was nothing they could latch onto, no clues as to who he would attack next. 'The suspect will be a white male, he won't look like a monster. In fact he may well be charming and attractive, as his victims put up no struggle', she told the assembled officers. 'But at his core he is a loner. He won't view his victims as subhuman, more that he is superhuman, a superior species, something above us. He won't be married but he may have just come out of a long term relationship. There has to be a catalyst as to why he has started killing again and it could be a bad break up. He has done this before and one thing's for certain: he will do this again.'

* * *

Angel walked through the streets looking for something, but not knowing what. Hunting. He passed through the crowds; a silent shadow slipping amongst the humans, separated from them by his thoughts, by his experiences. Up ahead he saw a group of young women talking. One had her back turned. She was small, blonde, familiar. He felt his senses heighten as he approached the girl, knowing that if he had a heartbeat it would be hammering: this was what he was looking for, here she was. The blonde girl turned. It wasn't her. It was never her. He gave up his hunt and slunk home.

* * *

'OK, Doyle, I'm off. See you tomorrow.' Cordelia picked up her handbag and slung it over her shoulder as she headed to the door.

'See y' Cordy', Doyle looked up from his paper to watch her go by, he would have gone with her, asked her to go with him for a drink, but he wanted to wait for Angel to come home and check that he really was OK.

As she opened the door, she screamed - and Doyle was forcibly reminded of the week before when she had bumped into Barney in the exact same spot. He twisted his body round on the sofa to get a good look at what was happening.

'Jeez Wesley, hover much?'

Wesley pushed inside and pulled Cordelia back in with him, he shut the door and glanced around the office. 'Is Angel here?'

'No, what gives? Hey!' She noticed the sharp, wooden implement clutched in Wesley's hand. 'What the heck is that?'

'Exactly what it looks like.'

'You know, bud, bringin' a stake to a vampire's place of work isn't the friendliest thing in the world. It's the sort of thing that might give the wrong impression. Lead to misunderstandings, that sort o' thing.'

But Wesley wasn't in the mood to listen to the pair of them play around with him, like they had that morning. 'Remember earlier when I brought up the wrong post by mistake?' He proffered a newspaper clipping, 'That's when I saw this…'

Cordelia snatched the clipping out of his hand 'Oh my God!'

'Exactly!'

'You cut up Dr. Folger's paper? You're gonna get us kicked out of the building.'

Wesley sighed. 'No, read it Cordelia, both of you.'

Doyle scooched over on the couch so they could both sit down, as Cordelia brought the clipping over to him. They sat close, knee to knee, heads bowed together, reading the article that Cordelia held in her hand. If Cordelia's hand trembled a little as she sat with Doyle, it wasn't enough that anyone would notice.

'Third body found in Alley,' read Doyle, aloud

'So? Not exactly front page news is it?' Cordelia was impatient, she wanted to go home. Or she wanted Doyle to just grab her and kiss her. No, she definitely wanted to go home.

'Actually it is the front page,' Wesley was saying. 'But note the modus operandi. The mutilation of the corpse with a religious icon.'

Doyle and Cordy exchanged nonplussed glances: 'we're against it?'

Wesley started rooting in his bag, pulling out a large folder as he spoke, 'whilst fulfilling my duties as watcher, in Sunnydale, I did extensive research, specifically on Angel. Given his uncomfortable proximity to the slayer...'

Cordelia leant towards Doyle, 'he looked pretty comfortable to me', she whispered in his ear. Doyle smirked. Wesley handed them the folder. 'When I saw this story today it rang chillingly familiar, Angel, as Angelus, was known, In the 1700s, to mark his victims with a christian cross. Just like the woman who died last night.'

Cordelia stood up and faced Wesley, her arms crossed against her chest, her expression furious. 'OK, you get to go now', she said.

'What?'

'Cordelia,' Doyle interjected, but she turned to give him a furious glare, as well, before turning back on the hapless Wesley. 'Angel is good now, and he's our friend. And it doesn't matter how many horror stories you have of what he got up to back in the powdered wig days we're not gonna turn on a friend.'

'He's right, Cordelia', said Angel from across the office, having slipped in unobserved. Wesley whirled round, shielding Cordelia from the vampire and holding up a cross. 'You stake him, I'll cut off his head!' Cordelia squealed.

'Cordelia!' Doyle interjected again, 'I think that might be a bit hasty, yeah?'

'You never met Angelus, Doyle, you don't know what you're talking about. He killed my computer science teacher. And one time he killed all of Willow's fish and then posted them back to her in an envelope. For fun!'

'Don't come any closer,' Wesley demanded, waving his cross in Angel's face, Angel turned away from it. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'

'Ha! Is that what you told Miss third body found in alley?'

'Cordy!' Doyle's voice had taken on a warning tone, he had moved towards the edge of the sofa and was leaning forward, watching Angel intently.

'If I was going to hurt you, I would have already.' Angel grabbed Wesley's arm and squeezed until Wesley was forced to drop the cross. 'Right' said Wesley holding up his hands, 'we're listening.'

'I have no memories of doing these things.'

'Not exactly the confidence inspiring denial I was looking for there, boss.' Cordelia told him. Angel moved across to lean on the desk, Doyle's eyes followed him as he went, still watching him keenly. 'I've been having … dreams', Angel said, 'Killing dreams, always the same'. He kept his voice low and his eyes fixed on the floor, as if he couldn't face looking at his friends whilst he talked about the murders he had committed in his mind. 'I stalk them, toy with them, mark them before I kill them. And then just before they die from their fear, I feed on them.'

'So, you're having nightmares, then', said Doyle, 'everyone has those, you ever had the one where you're in the freezer section, at the store, and you look down and you realise you haven't got...'

'They're not nightmares,' Angel interrupted. 'I've enjoyed them.'

'Oh'. His three friends looked at each other, concerned.

'Are you afraid that these might be more than just dreams? That you're really killing people in a hypnagogic state?'

'Hypnowagic?' Cordelia asked.

'Sleep walking.'

'Pfft. Angel can't sleep walk, he'd take one step outside and his little flannel pyjamas would burst into flames.'

Doyle thought back to that morning and Angel's state of undress; in all his gleaming, rippling glory, and wished that he'd thought of little flannel pyjamas as a Christmas present. But also he thought of the terrible, confused, irritable state he'd found him in. 'But what if he went out during the pre dawn hours?' he asked.

'Which is when all these murders have occurred,' added Wesley.

'I guess there's just one way to find out.'

* * *

Cordelia was not happy about having to chain Angel to his bed. 'Look at my glamorous L.A life,' she complained. 'I get to make the coffee and chain the boss to the bed.'

'I think that's tight enough, Cordelia' Angel winced.

'And if you're back on the liquid lunch? Better safe than cocktails.' She pulled even tighter. Angel sighed deeply. When she was finished, she took off; claiming she did not want to hang around if Angel was back on the juice, leaving Doyle and Wesley to keep watch over the slumbering vampire. They took it in turns, one to sit with Angel for a couple of hours, one to get some rest on the couch. It was better than it would have been if one of them had had to take the entire night by himself, but it was still a long, uncomfortable and surprisingly boring night. Doyle would have thought that making sure your boss hadn't become a homicidal monster would have at least held a frisson of excitement. But Wesley had told him that 90% of the vampire slaying game was waiting, and as the wee hours crawled on, Doyle had to admit that the British man was right. Angel slept on, but fitfully. He seemed to be dreaming, Doyle wondered if he was dreaming of death.

* * *

_In Angel's mind a girl in a long dress and bonnet ran down the cobbled street. She knocked desperately on a door but it was locked. She was grabbed from behind and a metal finger tip was placed on her lips, before carving a cross onto her cheek. 'Now then,' Angelus said, 'isn't that better?'_

* * *

'Great news sports fans! There's been another killing!' Doyle rolled off the sofa he had been sleeping on; over by the bedside Wesley was jerking awake, as if he had been snoozing on the job. Cordelia was waving a paper, excitedly. 'I mean it's not so great for the, you know, dead person, but it means Mr. Oh so tortured over there is off the hook.' She turned to Angel, her smile big and bright. 'You didn't do it.'

But he did not share her enthusiasm or relief: 'Yes, I did.'


	11. Somnambulist: Part Three

The team sat around Angel's table, nursing coffee mugs. 'He was a puritan, Penn', Angel was telling them, 'I changed him, taught him to kill. He murdered his entire family in one night, marking their faces with the cross, just like I showed him. I taught him well.'

'And you think he's here?' Wesley asked, leaning across the table, 'Does he know you are? could these killings be an attempt to draw you out?'

Angel shook his head, 'I always had a close bond with those that I sired. These dreams just mean that he's nearby, that's all.'

'God!' Cordelia exclaimed loudly. The three men all turned their dark heads to look at her, in surprise. 'He's been doing the same thing for 200 years,' she said. 'Gallagher's changed his act more times than this guy, what's his deal?'

'So we can't find him,' said Doyle, turning away from Cordelia and back towards Angel, 'and the cops have got no chance of stopping him. What do we do?'

'Kate,' said Angel standing up.

'What about her? you can't be goin' to tell her what's goin' on'

'He's not wrong, Angel', Wesley warned, Doyle nodded along in agreement. 'If you march into the precinct and tell Detective Lockley that the murders are being committed by a 200 year old puritan and not offer any proof, you'll be locked up faster than Lady Hamilton's virtue.' Wesley suddenly looked abashed at his words and turned to their female companion. 'My apologies, Cordelia.' Cordelia looked at Doyle in confusion, who shrugged back at her equally perplexed, he couldn't help her out on this one 'That's OK, Wesley' she said 'I don't understand what that means.'

'Kate's a good cop,' Angel told them, 'and she has resources we don't have access to, eventually she will find him.'

'Pretty bad for her,' Doyle said.

'But good for us.'

* * *

When Kate saw Angel walk into the precinct, she assumed he was there for the license plate info and started to look for it on her desk. Then she noticed his nervous demeanour. 'Is everything OK, Angel?'

'Can we talk?' the vampire asked, 'privately?'

...

She led him to the briefing room and he looked at the pictures on the wall. 'How's the investigation going?' He asked.

'It's not, some of your more inconsiderate serial killers don't even leave clues behind when they've murdered someone.' Angel walked along the wall examining each picture. In his mind he compared each victim to the family members that made up Penn's first kill. 'He's reliving it', he said to himself.

'What did you say?'

'Do you trust me?'

'You know I do.'

Angel took out a sketch he had made before coming over, it showed his approximation of what he thought Penn would look like now. 'Trust me when I tell you: this is the man you're looking for.'

'Where did you get this?'

'His next victim will be a white adolescent male, he'll take him off the streets in a low rent neighbourhood, probably near a liquor store or dive bar, and he'll kill him, like he did with the rest, unless you use every resource in this department to stop him.'

'But how can you …?'

'Trust me.'

* * *

Angel left the precinct and went back to the car, where he had left Doyle waiting in the passenger seat. 'Did she bite?'

'Told her just enough to get her killed.' He handed his smaller friend a police scanner, 'can you hook this up for me? So we can listen in and keep her safe.'

'Sure thing, where d'ya get a police radio? '

'Police car.'

Doyle nodded sagely, and started to set up the scanner.

* * *

Later that night a young kid walked through a low rent neighbourhood, accosting anyone who passed, hoping to find someone irresponsible enough to buy him a drink. After a few strike outs he found a guy lurking in the road. 'Hey, buddy, you old enough to buy beer?'

Penn nodded and led the kid away.

A cruising cop car saw them walking, and, checking the copy of the sketch they had been given, radioed in.

* * *

Angel and Doyle were waiting tensely in the car when the scanner came to life: 'all units, requesting back up. Multiple homicide suspect sighted. 3336 Channel Avenue.' Angel turned the ignition, the car roared into life and they drove off towards Channel Avenue, ready to hunt a vampire.

As they pulled up they saw that Kate was already there, being filled in by her officers on what had taken place. A kid was being wheeled off on a stretcher, shaken but alive. 'It's a big place, but we've got him sealed in.'

Kate nodded 'I'm going in,' she said, and pulled her gun our ready.

Angel and Doyle leapt out of the car. 'There's a drain round back,' Angel said. 'I'm going to climb it, you wait here for me. See you later.'

As Angel ran off round the back of the building, Doyle leaned against the car, folding his arms across his chest. Waiting had been a better game to play back when he'd been a smoker, it gave him something to do whilst he just stood there. But he had started to get his life in order, and quitting smoking had been part of that, if only paying off old debts would prove as easy as going cold turkey on the nicotine. Instead of smoking, he occupied himself by thinking about Cordelia and the different times she had smiled at him, or made unnecessary physical contact with him, over the past couple of days. That was a sign a girl liked you, right? When she got all handsy for no good reason. He tried to think back to how it had been before, when he'd been younger. He really only had Harri to go on, he'd got married so young, but he was pretty sure that shy smiles and fleeting touches had featured in it before she had asked him out.

She had asked him out, he remembered, but things had been different back then; he'd been human. Now, even if Cordelia took the plunge and saved him from having to do it, he still couldn't accept; no matter how much he wanted to. Not without coming clean about his demon half, first. And then all those secret smiles and fleeting touches might vanish into thin air, just like Barney had said they would. But he had to tell her, he made up his mind, when he next got a chance and it wasn't ridiculously late, and there wasn't something trying to kill them. He'd just come out and say it, really matter of fact, like, like it wasn't even a problem, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then asking her out afterwards would be the easy part.

His reverie was rudely interrupted by the sudden blaring of 3 gunshots. He tensed. They had come from the building. Angel was in there. He knew bullets wouldn't kill him, but Penn was in there too. A vampire nearly as old and as strong as Angel, and Detective Lockley had no idea what she was firing her weapon at.

* * *

Inside the building, Kate made her way towards where the suspect lay prone on the floor. She had just put 3 bullets in his chest and was relieved to find no pulse when she checked for one. Then his eyes opened. 'Ouch' he said.

She was thrown bodily across the room, and even as she flew she registered that no man should ever have had that kind of strength. The suspect was up and headed towards her, and she was still struggling to get to her feet, when suddenly the roof caved in and Angel landed in front of her.

'Angelus!' Penn greeted his old friend warmly, once he had got over the surprise of finding himself face to face with his long missing sire, 'it's been an age, we were to meet in Italy, remember?'

'I remember'

'Well, what happened? I waited. Hell I waited til the 19th century.'

'I got held up in Romania.'

'What's in Romania?'

'Gypsies.'

'Well you're here now', he turned towards where Kate was trying to contact her back up on her radio, 'Join me for a drink.'

'That's not why I'm here.'

'Yeah, why are you here?' Penn had to admit he was confused, even if he wasn't displeased.

Angel vamped out 'To kill you.'

Although he was caught on the back foot, his long lost sire suddenly exploding through the roof only to try and kill him, Penn wasted no time in being too confused to throw down or too loyal to fight back. His earlier pleasure at seeing Angelus evaporated, as the older vampire hit him. He hit his old sire right back in kind. The two vampires fought, and it was a real fight. This was no tussle with a newly sired vamp in an alleyway. Penn was not much younger than Angel, and had the strength and skill of an old vampire. This was a well matched grudge fight; and each vampire threw the other as far as their strength would allow, sending him crashing through walls and ceilings and floors. No matter how hard they fell they always got back up, and Kate watched in horror as the detective she had developed a crush on threw the suspect around with superhuman force.

He turned to look at her and his handsome face was changed, monstrous. His brow, always prominent, hung low over his eyes, his eyes were yellow now and his teeth were turned to sharp fangs. 'Kate! Go! go!' he yelled at her, but she could only gape in disbelief and fear.

'You know its name?' the suspect said, 'Angelus what's happened to you?' He threw Angel straight at Kate, sending them both crashing to the ground. By the time they were back on their feet, Penn was gone. Kate was staring, horrified, into the demonic visage of the man she had classed as a friend, when suddenly his whole face seemed to shudder and he was handsome again, a man once more.

* * *

The backup units had moved in, but Penn was long gone. 'I shot him', Kate said to Angel, 'three times in the chest, I know I got him, but he just got up.' She suddenly pulled her gun on her friend. ' If I shoot you will you get up too? What is he?'

'You already know the answer to that Kate. There's something you haven't been telling the press isn't there? Puncture marks on their necks, each of his victims have been drained of their blood.'

'Should I trust you more or less for knowing that?'

'Bullets won't kill him Kate, you know that, as well. It's going to take decapitation, sunlight or a stake through the heart.'

She shook her head in disbelief: 'you're telling me children's stories. I don't believe you.'

'Even after what you saw? You won't believe? Then you'll lose, Kate.' He reached out and grabbed the small cross that she wore on a chain around her neck, smoke began to rise from his fist. 'You'll lose if you can't face up to this.' And he turned around and stalked away.

* * *

He found Doyle waiting anxiously by the car. 'Did'ya kill 'im?'

'He got away.'

'What about Detective Lockley?'

'She knows, but she doesn't believe. This isn't over.' They got back into the car and drove back to the office.


	12. Somnambulist: Part Four

Back at the precinct, Kate stared at the photos of the four victims that they had pinned to the wall. She owed it to them to find this guy and stop him, no matter what the truth. She owed it to them to find out whatever she could. An officer entered the briefing room, a pile of records in his hands. 'I've dug up everything I could, going back as far as our records go. So you think this guy is some kind of copy cat? A history buff?'

'Something like that,' she said, picking up one of the old newspaper headlines: 'Vampire killer strikes again in garment district,' it read. She began to dig through the old case files.

* * *

'So, you discovered the seemy underbelly of the candy coated America, have you? And you've come to us. I don't blame you,' Cordelia said to the nice looking man that sat across from her in the very desk chair she had given the hard sell to two days ago. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Doyle emerge from the staircase and into Angel's office. Remembering his advice she switched tack and fixed her brightest smile in place. 'So how did you find out about us?' she asked, in a much softer voice than the one she had used before.

'From the police actually.'

'Oh really?'

She wondered what Doyle was doing next door, usually he came straight through, Angel didn't like them hanging around in his office. Maybe he'd seen her with the client and decided to give her space to practice her questioning. That was so thoughtful of him! She suppressed a smile and turned her head slightly to see if he was watching her through the blinds. He seemed to have disappeared. She frowned.

'Yeah,' the guy was saying, 'the detective I spoke to was really enthusiastic. For the truly human touch I should come to you.'

He stood up. Cordelia noticed the thick coat hanging on the back of her chair. 'Is it cold, out?' she asked.

'You know I'm trying to remember her name…' the man said, 'do you know her? Tall… natural blonde… nice looking?'

'Oh sure, Kate, Detective Lockley, she and Angel are totally tight.'

The man took in this information: 'so it's a personal relationship? He cares for her?'

'Oh sure,' she rolled her eyes. 'That's our Angel, all dour on the outside but when you get to know him … and you're totally pumping me for information aren't you?'

Penn flashed her a predatory grin.

'You're him ..apt pupil boy.' Her eyes darted to the door.

'You realise you'll never make it to the exit before I...'

She pulled the blinds up and flooded the room with sunlight. 'Go up in flames?' She stood safely in her sun spot, whilst he lurked and growled in the shadows at the edge of the room.

Angel suddenly appeared in the doorway, Doyle behind him. The smaller man seemed to be breathing heavily as if he had just finished a sprint, and Cordelia realised that he must have run for Angel when he'd seen her talking to the vampire. So that was why he hadn't come in. 'You OK?' He croaked at Cordy, she nodded, calmly. This was not her first rodeo.

'Doyle, get a stake,' Angel commanded. Wordlessly, Doyle went back into Angel's office, retrieved the stake that Angel used to balance his wonky desk, and handed it over to his boss. Angel couldn't cross the patch of sunlight to reach Penn, and Penn could not reach Angel. Doyle edged into the sunlight and towards the window to be closer to Cordelia, just in case.

'I'm sorry Penn', Angel said. 'I'm sorry for what I turned you into'

The other vampire laughed. 'A first class Killer? An artist? A bold reinterpreter of the form?'

'More like a cheesy hack. You've been getting back at your father for 200 years. Well it has to stop.'

'No Angelus, it never stops.'

The front door opened suddenly: 'Well Angel, I tried all the contacts Doyle won't talk to. There's no word on the street about our crazed killer.' Wesley walked through, oblivious to the danger, and was immediately grabbed by Penn. 'Probably because he's here and has me by the throat', he rasped. Snarling, Penn backed towards the doorway before he dropped Wesley. 'Thanks for the critique Angel, maybe I should change up my act. Just imagine the worst possible thing and I'll be there.' He grabbed his coat and ran out into the street.

* * *

Kate had spent the whole day researching. She had been in arcane little bookshops that she'd never seen before, that she would have thought were filled with a load of old hokum before last night. Now she was at home, still reading up. She had found out about Penn's previous visits to L.A and she had found out all about her detective friend. There was a knock on the door. It was Angel. 'Can I come in?'

'Oh, that's right, you have to be invited in. No. That isn't going to happen.'

'You've been doing your homework.'

'Oh, wanna quiz me? I'm just full of fun facts to know and share. I found your little friend, he was here in 1929 and again in 1963. And then there was something in Boston in 1908, I think he was there too.'

'Please, let me help.'

'Please, I bet that's a word you've heard a lot of in your time. I looked you up too. Angelus? Isn't that what he called you? The demon with the face of an Angel and the cruellest bastard to ever walk the earth.'

Angel had nothing to say in reply.

'I don't need your help, Angel, I know what to do. I'm going to drive a stake through that son of a bitch's heart and then I suggest you stay out of my way. Because next time I see you I'll do the same to you.'

The team were in the office, Doyle was on the computer and Cordelia was flicking through old news reports. '1923, she said?' asked Cordy, 'yeah, he was here all right.'

'Same story in the 60s too, man, same old same old, same victim pathology, everythin'. '

'But he's going to change it up, he said, the worst thing you can imagine. That could be anything!' Wesley said, looking a little defeated. 'We need to find him before he can do whatever he's planning.'

But Angel had been thinking carefully about the Penn he knew, and the conversation that Cordelia had had with him in the office. Penn had really only shown an interest in one thing ... 'We don't need to find him,' Angel told the team. 'He's going after Kate.'

Wesley drove the car into the underground lot near the precinct. Angel was hidden under a blanket in the back. 'We're here,' Wesley announced 'what next?'

'We wait.'

Sure enough at the end of the day, Kate Lockley came out of the precinct and made her way to her car. She was intercepted on her way and dragged out of view. Penn. Angel dove out of the car and followed the two of them. Penn dragged the detective down a grate into an open sewer tunnel and Angel followed close behind.

...

'You think I'm going to kill you' Penn was saying to Kate, as he dragged down the tunnels. His voice reverberated off the curved walls and echoed right back to them. 'Don't worry, I won't kill you. I'm going to turn you. Angel is the one that will kill you.'

Angel, gave chase - splashing his way through the tunnels, following the two familiar scents: his vampire protege - and human fear. He could move faster than his quarry, Kate was struggling and fighting the whole way and slowing Penn down... not that Penn minded, he wanted his sire to find them, wanted Angel to see what Penn had done - what he had achieved.

It wasn't too long before Angel caught up with them. He yanked the vampire off the detective and began to whale on him. Given a moment's breathing space, Kate threw holy water into Penn's face. The demon screamed, but he didn't stop fighting. If the fight last night had been bitter and violent, then this one was one for the ages. Angel and Penn threw punches and kicked and grappled. They flew through the air and got back up again and launched themselves at their opponent. No mortal man could withstand the damage the two vampire's were inflicting upon each other. And the whole time Penn was ranting at his sire, about his father, about the last 200 years and about who he really wanted to hurt.

Kate looked around for a weapon and found a jagged piece of wooden board, she picked it up and held it ready. The two fighting vampires continued to struggle. Eventually Penn got his rms around Angel's throat and held him pinned against his chest. They were right in front of Kate... to kill Penn she would have to go through Angel.

With an almighty yell she launched herself at the vampires and drove her makeshift stake through Angel's stomach and then upwards, hitting the heart of the vampire behind him. Penn exploded in a cloud of dust, her first kill.

Angel dropped to the floor, exhausted and injured, 'you missed.'

'No... I didn't.'

* * *

Doyle would have been offended that he'd been left behind in the chase for Penn, and that Wesley had been chosen to accompany Angel instead, but he wasn't complaining because this would give him at least an hour alone with Cordelia. Now was his chance to tell her everything, to risk everything.

She was sat behind her desk working at her computer, and he went to sit in the chair opposite. She smiled welcomingly at him as he sat down. 'Are you worried about Angel?' she asked.

'No, he'll be fine,' Doyle replied. He took a deep breath. He was getting a sense of deja vu, he had tried to do this too many times before, and each time was a bit more terrifying than the last. 'Cordelia, listen...' She looked up at him again. 'There's something I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, and it's important but I don't know that you'll like it.'

She smiled encouragingly, he must be going to ask her out already!

'See, the thing of it is, I'm a little bit more than …'

A shrill ringing cut him off. It was Cordelia's cell, she glanced at it and then looked up apologetically. 'It's my agent, Doyle, I gotta take this.' He nodded and she answered her phone.

'Hi … yes …. Yes ...uhuh.' Her eyes lit up in delight 'You're kidding!' she squealed. Doyle sat up straight, she'd just been given good news. 'Thank you Thank you Thank you' she chirruped down the phone and then hung up. She squealed again, but this time there was no recognisable words.

'Cordy, what is it?' Doyle asked. He'd lost another chance, but the smile on her face was worth it.

'You remember that audition from last week? Stain be gone? It was a national?' Doyle nodded. 'Well I got it! I actually got the part!'

* * *

Later that night, Doyle found Angel alone on the roof top, brooding. 'I thought I might find you out here', he said.

'How's Cordelia doing?' asked Angel.

'She's not come down from cloud nine yet.'

'She deserves a lucky break.'

'She does.'

Both men looked out over the cityscape at the cars driving past and the lights twinkling. 'You know I was just sitting up here thinking of how it's like where I grew up. '

'Yeah, I can see that,' said Doyle, 'apart from the cars, and the lights and... everything else.'

'It's just people moving through their lives, I wonder if anything ever changes.'

'Well I have, Cordelia has,' Doyle paused. '...And you have too, you know that, man'

'I enjoyed those dreams'

'And it would probably not hurt if you never mentioned that again. But that's who you were, not who you are.'

'What if I change back?'

'Oh, Cordelia will drive a redwood through your chest.' Angel looked surprisingly pleased at that news. 'And more to the point, man,' Doyle continued: 'I'll let her.'

'Thanks'

'What are friends for?'


	13. Expecting: Part One

_Part One_

Cordelia used the window that separated the two offices to apply her lipstick. One of the downsides of working with a vampire was the 'no mirrors in the office' rule. It would make clients twitchy if they noticed that the Private Investigator they were hiring didn't have a reflection. She just hoped Wilson didn't notice that she'd put her makeup on, in the dark, sans a proper reflective surface. She had a date tonight, her third with the same guy, and she felt more than a little guilty about it - because she knew, deep down, that she wanted to be dating Doyle. So she was wasting Wilson's time and risking hurting her friend. But he just wouldn't ask her out! She had made herself as open and available as she dared, she wore her cutest outfits to the office, she touched him whenever she could possibly think of an excuse to do so. It wasn't so much dropping hints as it was dropping _anvils_. And still: nothing.

She had almost bitten the bullet and just asked him out herself. After all, it was a brand new century and there was no reason a modern woman couldn't do that, but then she had suffered from a most unCordeliaish attack of self doubt. She couldn't have made it more obvious that she was open to the idea of dating him, so there must be a reason Doyle was holding back. The longer she had waited for an offer of a date, the more she had worried that maybe he had decided he didn't feel that way about her after all, that maybe he had realised he was still in love with his ex wife. There was definitely something he hadn't told her, and there was definitely something he'd attempted to tell her a few times. That had all started shortly after Harriet Doyle had made her sudden reappearance into his life, and Cordelia fretted that the two things were connected.

'You look nice.' Angel appeared from nowhere making her jump, her lipstick smeared across her cheek. 'And now I look like the joker! Can't you hum or something when you creep on people?'

'I don't hum.'

'Well if you end up giving one of your employees an early heart attack, don't say I didn't warn you.'

Doyle had followed Angel up from the apartment into the office and whistled appreciatively when he saw Cordelia. 'You, look smashin', have you got a date?'

That annoyed Cordelia more than the smeared lipstick had. He should be jealous! He should be upset about it! Trying to fix her smudged makeup in the reflection of the window, she didn't see that his eyes didn't quite match up to his lighthearted tone of voice. He watched her sadly as she fussed about getting her face right, but he didn't voice anything he might be feeling. He hadn't got round to asking her out yet, she didn't owe him anything.

'I'm confused,' Angel announced, he was holding a file in his hands. 'Why is Mrs. Bensen filed under P?'

'That isn't a P, it's an F … or is it an R? No wait, I remember it's an F.'

'OK, why is Mrs. Bensen filed under F?'

'Because... she came from _France!_ Don't you remember what a pain she was?'

Angel nodded, remembering: 'she made me want to drink a lot.'

'That would be Doyle's influence on you,' Cordelia said, nudging her friend to show him she was just teasing. Doyle smiled at her playful words, but once again it didn't reach his eyes.

Just as Cordelia finished her makeup, and Angel gave up on ever understanding her filing system; Wesley walked into the office carrying a ridiculously large axe. 'Hello everyone,' he said. 'I was just patrolling in the area with my new Bavarian fighting axe when it suddenly occurred to me: perhaps Doyle has had another vision, perhaps you need my help in the battle against evil?'

'We seem to be evil and, thankfully, vision free at the moment, bud,' Doyle told him. 'But I'll be sure to let you know next time the higher powers decide to split my skull in two.'

'Well, I also brought along a word puzzle 3-d, if any of you have the nerve to take me on.'

'Gee, Wesley,' Cordelia replied, sounding less than impressed. 'I'd love to, but unfortunately I'm not in my eighties quite yet.' Angel and Doyle exchanged appreciative grins. Cordelia had a good excuse to not play: she was going out tonight. But without her characteristic bluntness shooting Wesley down in flames; the two, far more polite, men might have found themselves word puzzling into the night.

Wesley took offence at Cordelia's tone. Even though he'd known her before, back in Sunnydale, it was clear he'd never really known her well, or understood her. There was no point taking offence at the things Cordelia said; not only would she not notice, she wouldn't understand why you were offended if she did. Cordelia said what she thought, without filter. Tact was just not saying true stuff and that just wasn't her style. She didn't even realise that other people didn't behave the same way. Angel had learnt this over the past three years, Doyle had picked up on it almost straightaway. Wesley still didn't get it, didn't get her. 'Well if shaking your booty in the latest trendy hotspot is your idea of a life, then consider me…' he began stuffily, before trailing off as two young women, dressed to the nines, entered the office '...green with envy,' he finished.

'Hi I'm Sarina' said one of the girls, eyeing Wesley appreciatively, 'nice axe.'

'Oh, this old thing?' said Wesley, suddenly all clumsy and bashful. He swung it around and embedded it into the wall behind him. Sarina smirked and turned to Cordelia: 'We're late, you don't wanna know the things Wilson had to do to get us into Lounge La Brea.'

'OK, I'm ready how'd I look?' Cordelia spun round to show off her outfit. She felt Doyle's eyes on her as she did: _well if you want it, buddy, you're gonna have to speak up._

'Like you always do.' Sarina managed to sound unimpressed even as she was paying Cordelia a compliment. 'Wilson won't be able to take his eyes off you.'

'Who's Wilson?' Angel asked

'Christopher,' Sarina answered, sounding like he ought to know

'Christopher Wilson?' Angel was trying to talk to Cordelia, but she was studiously ignoring him.

'Wilson Christopher' the other girl, not Sarina, corrected.

'No?' exclaimed Wesley in an excited tone 'The ethno-archaeologist from Brandies?'

'The fashion photographer from L.A, who's been seeing Cordelia. 3rd time's the charm. And by the way that whole Hugh Grant thing is really working for me,' Sarina replied, making Wesley go all bashful again.

Angel pulled Cordelia over to one side, Doyle followed along. 'You've been seeing someone?' the vampire asked 'How come you didn't tell us?'

'Because I'm ashamed of you.' She glanced at Doyle to include him. 'Both of you, and because I know you'd give him the third degree like you did with the last guy I brought round here.'

'Your boss could give me the third degree anytime,' Cordelia's friend interrupted.

'Emily!' Cordelia sounded disgusted at the very thought.

...

At that moment, Doyle went rigid and brought his hand up to his head, his legs buckled under him and Angel just managed to catch him before he hit the ground. The vampire brought the smaller man over to the green couch and laid him there, crouching down next to him to keep him in place so he didn't fall off, as he writhed and twitched with the pain of the vision.

'Is he OK?' Emily asked

'He'll be fine,' Angel said, trying to brush the whole thing off as nothing. 'So…' he cast around in his mind to try and distract the two young visitors, 'La Brea, huh? That sounds … I hear the bands are...'

'It doesn't have bands'

'Which is a good thing because they're too noisy.' Angel was floundering with the small talk.

'Do you wanna come with?' Emily asked, sounding a little hopeful.

'Oh, no I think I'm busy. Besides I don't lounge too well'

'Good one,' laughed Wesley, also moving towards the couch to try and block the writhing Doyle from view 'No he's ah, he's no lounger this one!' and he firmly put a hand on Angel's shoulder to emphasise the point.

Sarina and Emily looked at each other. 'The good looking ones are always gay', Sarina noted. 'And I don't even wanna know what's wrong with that one.' She nodded towards Doyle, who was just coming round from his vision pain. 'Are you ready, Cor?'

Cordelia had been anxiously hovering, wanting to help but knowing Angel had it taken care of, not wanting to leave without seeing that Doyle was OK. 'Do you think you'll need me?' she asked Angel. 'I can stay if you'd like.'

Angel shook his head. 'No, go, have fun. Whatever it is we can take care of it, Wesley's here to help.'

She glanced over at Doyle who was now lying prone on the sofa, looking like he was just waiting for the women to leave before he requested a drink. They made eye contact. 'Have fun, Cordy', he managed a weak smile for her, 'I'll be fine.' With more than a couple of lingering backwards glances at Doyle, Cordelia left the office with her friends.

'Single malt scotch,' he moaned, 'now'.

* * *

The vision had taken them to 25 Cabrillo, where a baby Tahval demon was hatching out of its egg. The three men fought long and hard, slicing and dicing at any bit of it they could reach, but it had vicious long claws and was surprisingly strong for a baby, and they were tossed around the room like ragdolls. Eventually, with a blood curdling scream and a fountain of exploding orange gore, the demon was exterminated. The three men limped back outside into the warm night air.

'Well that was bracing,' said Wesley.

'And that was newly hatched, I'd hate to meet one when it was all grown up and got its driving license,' Angel agreed. Doyle was trailing along behind the two of them, the Tahval had taken a nasty chunk out of his leg, and his head was still throbbing slightly from the vision. He knew he should have gone demon face to fight such a dangerous creature, and he knew Angel would tell him so later. But he hadn't mentioned his heritage to the ex watcher and wasn't sure how much Wesley knew. Besides, fighting demon face wasn't his style, he'd rather take the beating a normal man would take.

'I must say, Cordelia had a lucky escape not coming with us,' Wesley was saying.

'Yeah I hope her night's going better than ours.'

'Well those friends of hers certainly seemed ...cheeky.'

'I think they liked you, Wes,' Angel teased.

'Really? Even when I put the axe through the wall?'

'That was pure charm.'

'But they thought we were gay.'

'Adds mystery.'

'Did Cordy's friend say that this was Cordy's third date with this Christopher guy?' Doyle suddenly interrupted the lighthearted banter. Angel turned to look over his shoulder at his friend, and noticed for the first time that, not only was he injured, he seemed severely dejected. The vampire slowed his pace.

'I think that's what she said, yeah.'

'She must really like him then. D'ya think she really likes him?'

Angel and Wesley exchanged a look. 'I don't know.'

'It might not be my place to say,' the British man stated, sounding hesitant '...but I always got the impression there was something between the two of you.'

'Yep, we sure do give off that impression.'

'You haven't asked her out though, yet?' Angel clarified.

'I can't ask her out, you know that, not without having the big conversation first. And every time I try to have it something always interrupts us: visions, phone calls, near death experiences and whatnot.'

Wesley looked like he didn't understand what Doyle meant, but was dying to know, but was too polite to ask. Cordelia wouldn't be too polite to ask.

...

The three men separated out once they got back to the office, Wesley returned home, Angel went underground to his apartment and Doyle slunk off to a bar to drown his sorrows and try to ease the aches and pains from the evening. He brooded alone on how he had missed his chance with Cordelia; on just how successful this fashion photographer was and on how, when Sarina had made that crack about 'the _good looking ones_ were always... ', she hadn't been including him.

* * *

Cordelia was having a better night, inasmuch as she wasn't wrestling a demon and fighting for her life. But it was hardly the perfect night out. She and Wilson had spent the night on a couch, talking. He was nice; he was handsome; he was successful; he wasn't even deadly dull like the last Prince Charming she'd dated. But he wasn't Doyle. There wasn't going to be a fourth date, she knew it. She was wasting this guy's time and she needed to close this out, hopefully without offending him. She just didn't want to go on dates with men who weren't Doyle any more. And if Doyle turned out to be still pining for his ex wife, then she was going to have to do the grownup thing and work on getting over him before she hit the dating scene again. There was just no point spending the evening with handsome, charming, successful men if she was going to spend the whole time yearning for her badly dressed, drunken, penniless coworker. But she still needed to see this night through and give Wilson a good time to make up for the fact she would be dumping him later, so she fixed on her brightest smile and chatted attentively.

'Winding up in L.A has been so terrifying, like jumping out of an aeroplane without a parachute, only without the bit where your body smashes on the ground,' she was saying. 'But things are going OK now, I've got a day job whilst my career takes off and I filmed a commercial a few weeks ago. I'm hoping it's the start of good things ahead. And the cheque was nice! In fact it paid for my outfit tonight.'

'And well worth the money it was too,' Wilson complimented her. 'You look amazing.' She smiled at his words, as she was supposed to, but she also thought of Doyle whistling at her and telling her she looked smashing. She wondered if he was OK after his vision, and if he'd managed to kill whatever monster it was he'd seen.

'But enough prattling from me,' she said, forcing her mind away from the little Irish man. 'My modest success is nothing to yours. One little commercial, even a national, isn't the same as being L.A's hottest young photographer.'

'Oh, I don't know,' He smiled at her, shy but intimate. 'The more success I get the more insecure I feel.'

'You're doing what you came here to do, where's the insecure?'

'In the pictures. I'm the guy behind the camera, recording life, not living it. Not like you.'

'Look at me,' she smiled. She hadn't thought of it that way before. 'Living life'

'Yes,' he said, leaning towards her ao they were only inches apart. His smile became sincere and flattering. 'Look at you...'


	14. Expecting: Part Two

_Part Two_

The pair of them had wound up back at her place. She wasn't sure how that had happened, she'd been trying to find a good time to give him the brush off all night but there had been no easy way into that conversation. He had somehow managed to stick to her like superglue and turn all her attempts to create distance between them into compliments and flattery. She didn't know what to do about it. And so she had found herself inviting him in for coffee.

She thought that maybe, over a strong, hot drink she could finally find a way to say 'thanks for the lovely evening, now leave me alone forever'. But Wilson remained charming and attentive, all compliments and flattering smiles, and Cordelia reluctantly came to the conclusion that the only way out of this one was going to be the sympathy bone. Whatever Dennis was up to wasn't helping either, playing with the lights and selecting a jaunty polka on the radio. It was like he was deliberately trying to kill the mood but, from Cordy's perspective, there was no mood to kill... and nothing seemed to dim Wilson's enthusiasm. 'I'm sorry', she said, as the radio blared its jazzy dance number and the lights flickered bright then mellow then bright again, 'this is an old building, the wiring's kind of off.'

'No problem … bright is good, I like looking at you.'

She sighed. Boy, did this guy ever learn to take a hint? He was more obtuse than Doyle.

'Tea?' she asked brightly.

'Tea sounds great,' her date replied, and she moved into the kitchen, relieved to be away from his sincerity and admiration for a few moments.

...

'Stop it right now, Dennis,' she exclaimed to the air once she was away from Wilson. 'I don't know what you think you're playing at, but I got this, OK?' A sudden thought occurred to her and made her instantly angry. 'You had better not be judging me, Phantom Dennis! I'm just gonna have "I don't wanna ever have sex with you" sex with this guy and then we can all move on and get on with our lives … except you, because you're dead. I'm allowed meaningless sex Dennis, it's the year 2000 and I'm 19 years old. This is happening, get over it.'

'Who are you talking to?' Wilson had appeared in the doorway of her kitchen. Boy, this guy just didn't quit.

'My ghost,' she smiled brightly and then shook her head as her guest looked nonplussed. 'The apartment is great and all, but the wiring always makes weird things happen, so I invented a ghost, y'know to talk to … when I'm alone.'

'But you're not alone now.' He moved towards her and drew her towards him, cupping her face as he leaned in for a kiss. She kissed him back, noticing how hard and toned he felt under his shirt when she pressed against him. This guy worked out. That was a good thing, she told herself. Muscles were a good thing. Always had been, always would be ... But a little part of her mind, right at the back, kept thinking about all the times she had flung her arms around Doyle to show him how enthusiastic she was he wasn't dead, and how soft he felt in comparison. She was supposed to want muscles in a guy, like she was supposed to want wealth and success and being more than an inch taller than her. But soft was good too, and so was brave and kind and funny.

Wilson continued to kiss her, as he led her back out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. OK, so the sympathy bone was well under way then and she didn't even have to do anything to make it happen. Just as long as he didn't turn clingy afterwards... She helped him take off his shirt and then he took off her top, the whole time kissing and touching as they moved their way through the motions. She tried her best to concentrate on the man in front of her, but as she fell back into her bed, she allowed her mind to wander a little towards the man she wished she'd spent the evening with instead...

* * *

Doyle was well and truly drunk by the time he made it back to his apartment building. He'd drowned his sorrows in a demon dive bar, whisky after whisky, until eventually the bartender had cut him off. Then he'd gone to an all night liquor store and bought himself a bottle of scotch. He took swigs straight out of the bottle, which was still clutched in the brown paper bag, as he stumbled through the streets of L.A, trying to remember his way back to his own neighbourhood. He'd missed his chance with Cordelia; he'd lost her, to the type of man she actually deserved to have: a handsome, tall, successful one. A human one. One that didn't have bad gambling debts and stash hard liquor around the office, or shoot spikes out of his face every time he sneezed.

He wanted Cordelia to be happy, he thought to himself. He hadn't made Harri happy, and he wouldn't make Cordy happy, not like this. She was better off without him, it was better this way. So he wouldn't ever say anything to her about it and would just get right on with that whole 'being happy she was happy' thing. That was the best thing he could do for her, not get in her way, so that's exactly what he would do. Because he loved her.

And this maudlin, drowning his sorrows over a girl he couldn't have was strictly a one time only deal, he told himself sternly. He'd given himself a pass on account of the shock of finding out that his Cordelia had a boyfriend. But the shock was over now and he wasn't going to get drunk over her not loving him again. He might be pathetic but he wasn't _that_ pathetic.

He had to clutch onto the handrail as he pulled himself up the staircase in his building. The elevator was broken, the whole place was such a dive, and he lived a long way up. He stumbled over his own feet as he went, his head was spinning from the whisky and it was a matter of great relief, and not a little pride, when he eventually managed to lurch headfirst into his own front door.

Inebriated as he was, he still remembered to enter cautiously, pushing the door open and checking his single room apartment truly was empty before he stepped over the threshold. He didn't want another run in with someone looking for money, like with the Kailiff demon that time. Safely inside, he put the chain on the door, his drunk hands fumbling with it, causing him to curse as he failed to do a simple task. Eventually he got the fiddly chain in place and he took off his leather jacket, dumped the bottle, still in its paper bag, on his coffee table and then collapsed on the sofa. He passed out in less than a minute, snoring loudly, and he didn't even wake up, hours later, when his alarm began to beep.

* * *

Cordelia woke up late too. She was alone, thank goodness. He hadn't stayed for snuggles! She glanced across at her alarm clock and saw that it was 10:43. 'Oops' she said to herself. 'Someone's gonna be late.' She sat up in bed and her covers rolled off her to reveal her now swollen, hugely pregnant belly...

* * *

It was midday and Angel was alone in the office worrying. He had been worrying about Cordelia for around 3 hours, when she became officially late. She was never late, unless she had an audition, which she would always tell him about first. He had started ringing at about 11, but there had been no answer. He thought about her date with Pierce, months ago, when she had told him to clear out her desk if she wasn't there in the morning, she'd be moving on up. Maybe her date had just gone really well this time.

At 12 he switched his anxiety over to the missing Doyle. Doyle was often late, and when he turned up he was sometimes the worse for wear after a late night bender. But last night he had been unusually downcast because of the news that not only was Cordy seeing someone, she'd seen the same someone multiple times. The night could have easily taken a dark turn for the small half demon; Doyle could be hurt, or lying in a ditch somewhere. Ditches were bad. Back when he was human, Angel's mother had always used to warn him about the ditches. He dialled his friend, and listened as the line connected and the phone started to ring.

After a while, much to Angel's relief, the phone was picked up at the other end. ''lo?' rasped a sleep confused voice. The vampire felt he should breathe a sigh of relief, but of course that wasn't really an option. 'Doyle? You OK?'

'Yeah, jus' on my way over now, Angel,' Doyle mumbled. This was clearly a lie, Angel could tell from his friend's voice that he had been passed out only moments before he answered the phone. He thought about telling the demon that Cordelia was missing, but he had no proof that she wasn't happily missing at this moment in time. Telling Doyle would just worry his friend, or rub salt in an open wound. He knew Doyle would never forgive himself, or Angel, if something was wrong with Cordelia, but a hungover, depressed version of himself was not going to be much help, if help turned out to be needed.

'Don't worry about it Doyle, just sleep it off OK? I'll talk to you later.' He rang off the phone and decided to call his most reliable friend. He called Wesley.

* * *

Doyle slumped back onto the sofa. Angel was being nice to him even though he, Doyle, was being drunk and irresponsible. Cordy's date must have gone _really_ well. He eyed up the remainder of the scotch. What the hell, time for some hair of the dog.

* * *

Wesley and Angel arrived outside of Cordelia's apartment. The door was locked and there was no answer.

'Maybe we should…' Wesley started to say, thinking privacy might be the order of the day. But Angel had had enough - he was too worried to wait around and if Cordy didn't want him bursting in on her unexpected then she shouldn't ignore three hours worth of phone calls. He seized the door handle, twisted and broke the lock, opening the door. 'Break and enter, what a good idea,' the British man finished up.

It was quiet inside. 'I don't like this,' said Angel. 'Something's not right.'

'Cordelia!' Wesley called, there was no reply, but the bedroom door opened by itself. Dennis.

They saw her, then, sitting up in bed, gazing off into nothingness.

'Mother of God,' Wesley breathed.

'Angel?' she asked in a small voice.

'I'm here.'

'I'm ready to wake up now, Angel … I don't seem to be waking up. Help me?'

'We're going to, what do you remember?'

Cordelia recounted her memories of the night, talking and then coming back for coffee. She kept reiterating how nice Wilson had been, how normal everything was, how safe it had been. 'It was - it was all really safe!'

'Have you spoken to Wilson?' She shook her head. 'Maybe he has some answers.'

'I can't talk to him!' She wailed, still shaking her head in protest.

'You just dial, I'll do the talking.'

But the dial tone never became a ring, the phone had been disconnected.

'Oh God I'm being punished,' Cordelia gasped. Her face was streaked with tears. '...I feel like I'm being punished.'

'No.' Wesley had never managed to sound so certain of anything in his life 'This is not a punishment, this is … we'll get to the bottom of it.'

She sniffed, quietly 'I think I'd like to be alone now.'

'Of course' said Wesley

'We'll be right outside' promised Angel.

* * *

Back in the living room the two men were in deep discussion. 'What are we going to do?' The British man asked. Angel picked up the phone next to the sofa and dialled Doyle for the second time that afternoon.

'Yeah?' Doyle's voice croaked down the line, he sounded worse than he had earlier. He was still drinking.

'Doyle, it's me, Cordelia's in trouble.' The vampire could practically hear his friend sober up as he took in those three words.

'What's wrong? What can I do?'

'She's ...sick.' He really didn't feel like getting into the details now. 'It's mystical in nature and it's linked to her date last night. But Prince Charming has done a runner, phone disconnected. I need you to ring around, find out what you can, find him. Can you do that for me?'

'Anything, man, right away.'

They rang off and Angel turned back to Wesley. 'If she's that pregnant overnight then she could give birth any minute, you need to see what's inside of her.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Prenatal exam. Wesley.'

'Oh, of course. What will you do?'

'I'm going to go and talk to Sarina, see if she knows anything. Lets just hope Doyle has some luck finding daddy.'

* * *

Wesley had managed to get Cordelia dressed in a large set of overalls and had convinced her to go to the hospital with him. She was in a bad state, depressed and anxious, and she chewed on her nails as she sat in the waiting room. A friendly pregnant woman tried to make conversation, but this had tested Cordy to her very limits and she had freaked out, startling the lady with her anger. It was with much relief that Wesley heard the fake name he had given the doctor called out. He ushered his friend into the examination room.

...

The doctor tried to make polite small talk with the pair of them as he prepped Cordelia's belly with the gloopy fluid they used for ultrasounds. Cordelia wasn't up to it, so Wesley found himself having to answer the Doctor's questions. 'You guys sure have left a lot of blank spaces, it would really help to know the name of your last doctor.'

'You're the only doctor we've seen,' Cordelia stated bitterly

'In California,' was Wesley's hasty amendment. 'We've just moved over from England.'

'Uhuh, lovely country, you guys think of any names yet?'

Cordelia stared at him, the doctor was unnerved by her gaze. He moved the ultrasound wand across her bump, picking up the heartbeat. 'Oh hey! Looks like someone's having twins.'

'Twins!'

'Hang on now, there's a third, wait a minute …'

The doctor was looking at the screen, transfixed. Wesley peeked at it and then looked back at Cordelia, gripping her hand.

'I'd just like to take some amniotic fluid,' the doctor said. He was smiling, but it was a fixed and nervous smile. Something was wrong but he was trying to hide it ... if only he knew how very wrong _everything_ about this situation was. He jabbed a syringe into her and then handed it, full, to the nurse. The fluid inside it was brownish and Wesley was sure that couldn't look right. Sure enough, the syringe began to crack as the fluid sizzled and burnt through it like acid. 'Doctor!' the nurse dropped it and the amniotic fluid began to eat its way through the floor. The nurse and the doctor fled.

'Come on Cordelia, let's get out of here.' Left alone, Wesley took charge of the situation. The news was bad but sitting around here was not going to help Cordelia. There was nothing the medical staff could do for her situation - that much was made clear when they had cut and run. He helped her pin up her overalls and then heaved her back into a sitting position on the bed.

'Did you see them?' she asked him, 'On the screen?' Her voice was brittle. 

'Let's talk about this later Cordelia,' Wesley said, trying to steer her out of the room - not wanting to frighten her in her condition.

but Cordelia wouldn't be put off. 'Did they look healthy?'


	15. Expecting: Part Three

_Part Three_

Doyle knew exactly who it was he was going to have to ring. He'd been avoiding this man for a long time, because he was real bad news. If you got on the wrong side of him, you wound up dead, horribly so - a warning to any others that might disappoint him. For weeks now, Doyle had been trying to get a beat on where The Scourge had got to, trying to find their monstrous weapon of destruction, and every source he had spoken to had given him this name: the only person in the underworld bad enough to have contact with The Scourge and not die. But Doyle had never got round to ringing him because, like he did with so many of the demon underbelly bosses, Doyle owed him money. But now Cordelia was in trouble and needed his help, and there wasn't any danger Doyle was unwilling to face in order to protect her.

But it was still with a heavy heart that he dialled the phone. 'Hi? Mr. McNamara? It's Francis Doyle … listen, I really need a favour.'

* * *

Angel was outside Sarina's apartment, he knocked on the door and was pleased to hear her answer: she was home.

'Just leave it outside.'

'Sarina? It's Angel, Cordelia's friend. Can I come in?'

'OK.'

He stepped inside, it was dark, all the lights were off and the room was lit only by little candles. Sarina had her back to him. 'The light hurts my eyes, lately,' she said. 'I thought you were the guy from the liquor store. I'm nearly out.' She lifted up a tumbler so Angel could see it, it had a hefty slug of something in it. More than even Doyle would pour into one glass. 'I'm not supposed to am I?' she asked - and as she spoke she turned around, and Angel saw for the first time her monstrously swollen belly. 'It'll hurt the baby. I _hope_ it hurts the baby.'

* * *

Doyle waited tensely, tapping his fingers together in impatience. He wished he still smoked: that would keep his hands busy and ease the tension. But there weren't even any cigarettes left in his apartment, he'd given up so long ago now. He hadn't thought he'd ever want a cigarette again, not now his life had purpose and meaning once more. He eyed the bottle, still a quarter full on the coffee table. He wanted a drink even more than he wanted a cigarette, but he needed to keep a clear head for Cordelia's sake. So he stayed still, and tapped his fingers and waited. After what seemed like hours, the phone rang...

* * *

'It doesn't seem real,' Sarina was saying. 'But it is, isn't it?'

'Yeah, it's real, the same has happened to Cordelia as well'

'I can't get hold of Jason.'

'Was that your boyfriend?' She nodded. 'Wilson's disappeared too, we're tracking him.'

'I didn't know this could happen,' she whispered.

'But did you know something?' Angel asked. 'Did you know something wasn't right?'

Sarina nodded, then shook her head and then finally nodded again. 'Things didn't always add up,' she told him. 'But that's L.A isn't it? Nothing's real, everything's phoney and a bit weird. They seemed nice enough but they wanted girls like me .. and Cordy.'

'How do you mean?'

'Pretty girls who were all alone … no one to care, they liked that. Wilson asked about Cordelia; he was very interested in whether she had any family, was really pleased when I said it was just her. So he asked to meet her.'

'Was that all that was strange?' the vampire asked gently.

'Yes … no … this is gonna sound weird.'

'Tell me'

'Their money .. it smelled. I mean it really smelled … bad.'

Then, Sarina doubled over and started to scream...

* * *

...Cordelia did the same. She was in the elevator with Wesley, going down into Angel's apartment. He held her up as she cried out in agony, and then supported her across the room, taking her to Angel's bed and laying her down on it. 'There's a brave girl,' he soothed, 'just rest here. It's all going to be fine.'

'I know it will be.'

Wesley gave her an odd look, she seemed much calmer now than she had been. Too calm. 'If you need anything at all,' he said, 'I'll just be…'

'You're afraid,' she told him. He looked at her. 'Of what's inside of me, you think it's horrible, that I won't be able to handle it. That if I find out I'll do something - bad.'

'Cordelia, I haven't yet formulated a theory. I need time to analyse the ultrasound and weigh the data…'

'There's seven of them,' Cordelia said, rubbing her belly with round, even strokes. 'I can hear them inside my head, talking to me. I can't understand you!' she suddenly cried at her bump.

'Cordelia, I know how difficult this must be for you,' Wesley began.

'No you don't.'

'OK, no I don't'

'You don't know what it's like.' He looked at her, not understanding. She continued to talk to him, her voice a hoarse whisper: 'you don't know what it's like to be a partner in creation... They're not human.'

'I imagine that's true.'

'But that doesn't have to be a bad thing, look at Angel, he isn't human, he helps people, he's good.' She seemed exhausted, her hair was sweaty and plastered to her head, she looked liked she needed to sleep, but she still tried to make this OK; to prove to herself and Wesley that this didn't have to be a terrible thing. She sank back onto the pillows and closed her eyes. Wesley covered her with a blanket and then returned to the main room of the apartment when he heard Angel enter.

...

'How's she doing?' the vampire asked.

'She's exhausted.'

'Sarina's pregnant too.'

'Angel, I saw the ultrasound, there's seven of them.'

'Multiple girls, multiple pregnancies … Someone's building an army.'

...  


Just then the phone rang, it was Doyle. 'Thank God,' the Irishman said when Angel picked up. 'I've been tryin' to reach y'. I spoke to a contact who dug around. Wilson's human, but he works for a demon. He hangs out at a gun and cigar club on 5th.'

'I'll go to see him.'

'Angel, what's wrong with Cordelia?' The vampire didn't answer. 'My source said Wilson acts as a surrogate for his demon overlord. A surrogate for what? _Angel?_ ' Doyle's voice got harsher and more demanding as his friend didn't answer, because he was afraid he already knew the answer and desperately wanted Angel to tell him he was wrong.

'She's pregnant', Angel admitted eventually. Doyle swore on the other end of the phone. 'She's just blown up over night, there can't be much time until she comes to term, we need to stop this thing.'

'Well my contact said that the demon overlord was a Haxil beast, big, ugly looking guy, impossible to kill. Tell Wesley he needs to hit the books fast, because if Cordy goes into labour…'

'She won't survive.'

'And if she does, she'll wish she hadn't.'

Angel hung up the phone and turned to Wesley, relaying the information Doyle had given him. 'I'm going to go convince Wilson to talk, you research this Haxil thing, and keep Cordelia calm.'

...

A sudden noise from the kitchen caught the two men's attention. Cordelia stood at the fridge, glugging down a quart of blood, drinking so deeply it had dribbled down her chin and onto her overalls in a bright, red river. 'I don't think I ever realised just how disgusting that was,' Angel said in an awed whisper. Cordelia looked at them both. 'I was hungry,' she said, devoid of any feeling, before returning to the bedroom.

'Get her a pizza, and find this thing, I'll call you when I have answers,' and Angel left the office to go find Wilson Christopher.

* * *

Back at home, Doyle eyed the bottle of scotch once more. He'd done his bit, he'd put his life on the line to find out what he could to help Cordy. The news was even worse than he had dreaded. He wanted to go to the office and be with her, but he couldn't face her. He didn't want to see her frightened and vulnerable. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to see her pregnant - infected with demon spawn. He didn't know that he would be able to hold it together in those circumstances. But he wouldn't help anyone, least of all Cordy, by falling apart, like it was him that was suffering in this scenario. And he couldn't help her by failing to accept what had happened and just deal with it, the way the other two men were, as if it were any ordinary case for them to solve. He couldn't face up to the fact that she might be going to die, and he loved her too selfishly to be brave for her; so he stayed where he was, the cowardly option.

He thought about how he had now reminded Darin McNamara that he was alive, and how he now owed the underworld boss more than ever. McNamara would call in his debt soon enough, and if Cordelia was saved then it would be worth it. But if she died, giving birth to demon spawn ... because she'd gone out with some creep … because he, Doyle, hadn't bothered to ask her out yet … He reached out for the bottle and unscrewed the lid.

* * *

Angel found Wilson at the gun club, on the firing range. He stood behind him silently and waited to be noticed. 'You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.' Wilson said, after he taken his ear protectors off. 'That's how accidents happen.'

Angel just smiled, pleasantly. 'Speaking of accidents. I'm a friend of Cordelia Chase.'

The little weasel was not interested in following up _that_ line of conversation. 'This is a private club, featured word: private.' Maybe he thought it would be that easy to dismiss Angel. Maybe he thought he had the upper hand. Either way ... he was wrong. 

'And if you don't talk to me I'm gonna kick you ass, featured word: ass.' Then he swung at the guy, knocking him to the ground.

* * *

Wesley had found the Haxil beast in one of Angel's books and was looking in horror at the illustrations. The good news was: if they could kill the demons then his psychic link to the pregnancies would be broken and the women would miscarry, no harm done. The bad news was: Doyle had not been exaggerating when he said impossible to kill.

A sudden noise made him realise that Cordelia was stood behind him. He tried to shield her from the pictures, but it was too late. She picked the book up and looked at the grotesque illustration 'Is this what's inside of me?'

He knew there was no point lying to her, if the psychic link was as powerful as he feared then she probably recognised it ... All he could do was try and prevent her from becoming hysterical, try and reassure her that the situation was in hand. 'I ask you not to overreact,' he said to her. 'These 16th century engravers did have a tendency to exaggerate.' Cordelia looked at him, her face seemed blank. She didn't actually appear to be frightened by the monstrous drawing she held in her hand. She was staying calm. 'That's right' he said soothingly, relieved that she hadn't begun to panic, thinking he could stay in control of the situation. 'Let's just ..'

She slammed the book closed and hit him over the head with it. He tumbled to the ground. 'You're not going to hurt my babies,' she said, hitting him once more and sending him into unconsciousness. 'No one's gonna hurt my babies.'


	16. Expecting: Part Four

_Part Four_

It turned out Wilson wasn't alone at the gun club, his buddies all hung out there too and Angel found himself surrounded by Wilson's friends. They formed a circle around him - he stared back. They were all human - this was no big deal. These guys must be the other surrogates, the other boyfriends Sarina and her group had been out with the night before. And everyone of them must have had himself a party last night. 

He thought about what Doyle had told him about the Haxil beast, and about the multiple pregnancies in multiple girls ... he thought he was figuring it out. 'So let me check I've got this straight,' he said to them, keeping his eyes on them as they circled him. '- You guys proxy for some big daddy demon, getting the human girls pregnant in return for what? Riches? Power? That's it isn't it, no way losers like you could be so successful if you weren't connected in the netherworld.'

'Welcome to Los Angeles,' smirked Wilson. 'There are worse creatures to do business with.'

'So where is he? Where is this demon you worship?'

One of the men pulled out a gun, 'Doesn't make a difference to you', he said, 'you're about to have an accident.' And he fired 3 times into Angel's abdomen.

Angel doubled over in pain and then straightened up, vamped out. 'I hate it when I get shot', he told them and then began to whale on Wilson and his buddies. He knocked most of them unconscious in no time and threw Cordelia's charmless boyfriend through a window. Then he stood on his face. 'You're going to tell me exactly what I want to know,' he said.

* * *

Cordelia entered into a deserted warehouse, she was moving as if in a trance. When she got there she saw Sarina and Emily, and some other women that she didn't know. None of them spoke to each other, but they all looked at one another, understanding what it was to be a partner in creation, understanding the lure that had brought them there. They each held their bumps and listened, as their unborn babies spoke to them through their psychic link.

* * *

The ringing of the phone brought Wesley back to consciousness. He groaned and rubbed his head, Cordelia had hit him hard and there were lumps. He picked up the phone 'Hello?'

'It's me.' Angel.

'Oh, Angel, Thank God. This is all my fault.'

'What's your fault?'

'She's gone. I tried to stop her but she became insanely protective when she saw the picture of the Haxil. I think she might have gone to rendezvous with it.'

'She has, but I know where it is. Miliken Industrial park in Reseda.'

'How does Cordelia know that?' Wesley asked

'There's a psychic connection between the demon and its spawn, that's how it's been controlling her.'

'Of course!' Wesley remembered his research. 'All we have to do is break that link and poof, no more babies. But Angel,' he continued, 'How do we break the link? Doyle wasn't lying when he said impossible to kill, fire won't do it, nor will decapitation …'

But Angel had an idea 'Wesley? Can you shoot straight?' The ex watcher answered in the affirmative. 'Meet me at the plant.'

* * *

The women were dressing each other in long, flowing, white robes, ready for the birth. They still didn't speak to one another but they knew what to do, their babies whispered to them telling them how to make ready for their arrival. The robes dropped down over the bare body of the last woman and then Cordelia led them into the plant, walking up some steps and towards a big vat of murky brown liquid. It stank and bubbled, but the women didn't seem to notice. They stepped into it, and sat around the edge, as if this were a hot tub party, and then they silently waited for the birth.

* * *

Doyle was half cut. But he had enough of waiting at home, he had to see Cordelia, had to do something more than ring around for information. If he had been too cowardly to face her before, at the thought of her being so heavily pregnant and helpless, the last of his scotch had imbued him with the courage he needed to go to her side. He stumbled into the office and then down the stairs and into Angel's apartment. It was empty. Cordelia was gone and so too were Wesley and Angel. He had no way of tracking them. His friends had left to save the day without him, or at least he hoped that was what they were doing. He sat down on the sofa and waited for their return, praying they would come back and everything would be OK, praying that last night would not prove to have been the last time he ever saw Cordelia alive.

* * *

Wesley rounded the corner and saw Cordelia and the other women sitting in the vat of brown liquid. He went towards her. 'Cordelia! Come out of there this instant!' He looked sternly at all the other women sitting with her. 'All of you please.'

'We don't expect you to understand,' Cordelia said, her voice was monotonous, like she wasn't really herself.

'I understand,' Wesley said. 'I understand you'll die if you don't get out of there. And that is the most vile, stinking filth I have ever had the displeasure of inhaling,' he finished, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 'Now don't make me come in there with you.'

'We serve our master,' she said, in the same, trance like tone.

'Please come out before…' The ground began to rumble, the Haxil knew there was an intruder there and he was coming to settle the problem before the birth of his children. The beast stepped through a hole in the wall. He was gargantuan in size and Wesley was dismayed to note that, if anything, the 16th century engravers had not done him justice, rather than exaggerating in their drawings, as he had promised Cordelia they had.

'Who is this interloper that dares disturb the birth of my children?' roared the demon.

'Wesley Wyndham Price, Rogue demon hunter,' answered Wesley, putting up his fists. 'And i'm here to fight you to the death … preferably yours.' He stood tall and bold, but he couldn't help sneaking a peak over his shoulder, hoping that Angel would arrive soon. He couldn't fight this impossible to kill monster.

'Very well..' said the demon, 'let's have battle and be done with it.'

'As a matter of courtesy, I always like to get to know my opponents before I vanquish them,' said Wesley, desperately stalling for time. He looked at the Haxil beast inquiringly. _'Do you have any hobbies?'_

But the demon had had enough and began to make his thunderous way towards the ex watcher.

Angel suddenly appeared, rolling a giant barrel in front of him, calling everyone's attention towards himself. 'Hey!' he said cheerfully. 'Sorry I'm late, didn't want to miss the baby shower, I brought a present.' He threw the barrel at the Haxil, who caught it in confusion. 'Wes, Now!' yelled the vampire and Wesley shot straight into the barrel. Liquid Nitrogen streamed out of the hole, freezing the Haxil in place. The demon roared as he died in agony. Inside the vat the women all screamed in painful unison, as the psychic connection was broken and the demon spawn was evacuated from their wombs. 

Herself, once more, and no longer pregnant, Cordelia looked around at her surroundings. Her mind was suddenly clear. It felt like she had woken up from a smothering fog ... but she still remembered every moment, every instant she had been enthralled. And now she was pissed. She climbed out of the brown ooze and hobbled towards the demon. She grabbed a big pulley that was dangling from the ceiling and, with a mighty yell, swung it at the frozen Haxil, shattering him into a thousand pieces. Then she turned and walked away, saying nothing to her friends.

* * *

Doyle was back in his apartment. He had stayed at Angel's until his friends had returned. Cordelia had not been with them, but Angel assured him that she was alive and that she would be OK. The demon was killed and her pregnancy was finished, she would just need time to get over her ordeal. He had returned home, then, not quite understanding how he felt. He was glad, and almost weak with relief, that Cordelia was OK. He was ashamed to admit he was a little happy that her date had proved so disastrous, although he would have done anything to spare her the experiences of the last 24 hours. He felt that he had been useless and felt guilty that he had not been there to support and help her, though he reminded himself that he had used his contacts to find vital information, even whilst Angel kept him in the dark about the nature of the problem. But then that led to a new weight settling on his chest. He had contacted a dangerous man in order to save Cordelia and now he owed him big, and it was only a matter of time before he came to collect.

Sure enough, his phone began to ring. He picked it up and listened to what the person on the other end had to say. He rubbed his forehead and nodded in agreement. 'Yes… yes sir, I understand ...I'll pay you back ... Yes Mr. McNamara, anything you ask …'

* * *

A couple of days later, Cordelia returned to the office, finally feeling able to put her experience behind her. Wesley and Angel were waiting for her, anxious for her return.

'Hey Cordelia, how are you feeling?' The vampire asked.

'Great' she told them both, fixing them with her brightest smile. They were trying to hide their nerves around her, she could tell, but they were not doing a very good job of it - and she was feeling herself enough to play around with that. 'I went on an excellent date last night with the producer of a soap opera.'

Angel and Wesley exchanged looks. 'Well that's ...great..' the ex watcher said, faux cheerfully. 'Back on the horse, that's the thing to do.'

'He was just so sweet,' Cordelia continued. 'He said all that I have to do is let him impregnate me with his demon spawn and I've got the part.' Both men visibly relaxed as they realised she was kidding. Her teasing grin softened and she looked at them more seriously. 'Guys, I'm OK. I mean it was an ordeal, but I got through it. I'm much stronger than those demon surrogates thought.'

'I'm beginning to learn that,' Angel said.

'And I learned something too', she smiled again. 'I learned … men are evil ..oh no wait I already knew that ...I learned sex is bad...'

'We all knew that.'

'OK, I learned that there are two people that I can absolutely trust with my life, and that part's new.' Her smile was big and bright again and both the men were smiling too, as they shared a moment of sincerity Then she looked around, confused. 'Hey! Where's Doyle?'


	17. She: Part One

Cordelia's place was heaving with friends, neighbours and well wishers; her mix tape of party tunes blasted out across the small apartment. Wesley was certainly making good use of her makeshift dance floor - shimmying alone, flailing his limbs wildly in a rhythm all of its own. He must have been boiling in the thick knit sweater he wore. People were beginning to back away. She would have been embarrassed by him, but Cordelia was in far too good a mood to let the public unveiling of the lack of cool of Wesley put a dint in her sunshine. This was ostensibly her housewarming party, but it had also become a celebration rather suddenly when, earlier that day, she had taken an important phone call from her agent.

Her 'Stain Be Gone' commercial had first aired a few weeks ago, and feedback groups had reported that they had liked what they'd seen. 'Stain Be Gone' sales had increased and the head of their advertising department wanted her back to film another advertisement. In fact, they were talking about using her and her on screen 'boyfriend' for a whole series of commercials, following their trials and tribulations as they spilled sauces down their tops just prior to important engagements, and then saving the day with the wonders of 'Stain Be Gone.' It wasn't an academy award winning role, or anything, but it was a small success. It was a national! And it meant more money. As she looked around at her beautiful apartment filled with people that she had met recently, and thought about her two simultaneous careers, Cordelia felt, for the first time, that she had made a real success of her post Sunnydale life, and it felt pretty sweet.

'Hi Diego, Laura!' she said, enthusiastically greeting two more newly arrived guests. Diego dropped a whole load of ice into her hands: 'let the consumption of cold things begin!' he announced.

'Are you going to behave yourself?' she asked

'Have you ever seen me at a party?'

Talking of people she'd never seen at a party, she glanced around the room trying to locate her two, non Wesley, co workers. Doyle was absolutely nowhere to be seen, which surprised her because she would have thought he would have blended right into a group full of people consuming alcohol. Angel was standing in the middle of the room, alone, not talking, not dancing, trying not to glower. It didn't really work. His face was permanently set to glower. Cordelia approached him, because she thought; if she didn't, no one else would ever dare.

'Hey' she said, brightly, 'are you having fun?'

'Sure this is -er'

'You're idea of hell?'

'Actually, in hell you tend to know a lot of the people.'

She laughed. 'Where's Doyle?'

'He's -uh - around - somewhere. No, seriously, I'm having a great time.'

Cordelia poured the ice Diego had given her into a bowl as she answered her vampire boss, 'yeah? Would you like some blood, or anything?'

'No I'm good.'

'Steve Paymer, that's Dave Paymer's brother, came - can you believe it?'

'I can hardly contain my surprise.'

Cordelia snorted, then 'Steve!' she shouted, catching sight of the D list celebrity's brother, and she hustled off to talk to someone who really was someone; leaving Angel standing there, all alone, once more.

* * *

Doyle was lurking by himself in the kitchen. He knew Cordelia would expect him to be more sociable, that she saw him as the friendly, drunk member of Team Angel, and not the aloof, brooding one; but the fact was that he hadn't been to a party like this in a while. And by a while he meant about 5 years, since he'd found out he was half demon. For the past 5 years he hadn't had any friends. Contacts, yes: acquaintances; people he owed money to; other lowlife members of the demon underworld that he might have a game of cards with, sure ... but not friends. It would probably surprise Cordelia to realise that he was actually more out of practice at this than Angel was, Angel had at least been hanging out with Buffy and her group for the past 3 years, going to that club Cordelia sometimes mentioned. Doyle, on the other hand, had spent those years drinking alone.

And before he was a member of the lowlife demon underworld, back when he had been a man, well he hadn't been half as drunk then. He hadn't any need to be. He'd been happy. So he had never been the centre of attention, life of the party kind of person. He'd always been the kind of guy who wound up in the kitchen at any large social gathering. He'd met Harri in the kitchen, at a party. Admittedly it had been a Christmas party at the soup kitchen he'd volunteered at, but it was still what it was. Other people had been dancing and having fun in the main room, and he had awkwardly moved himself off to the kitchen to wash up. And that's where he had found her. And it seemed, in that moment, like everything was going to be all right forever and ever. And then he'd discovered his demon heritage and allowed his anger and shame to ruin everything. So now, here he was, lurking in another kitchen at another party with little hope that Cordelia would waltz in and make everything OK again, the way that Harri had. She was far too busy being the hostess with the mostess.

Uncomfortable as he was, skulking around by himself in the dark, he had no urge to go out and join the party. He didn't want to talk to all these normal people with their normal lives and try and explain exactly how he fit into Cordy's life. And he didn't want to have to share Cordelia's company with half the neighbourhood. But he had no intention of going home. He was avoiding his place as much as possible at the moment. After calling on one of his old acquaintances to help save Cordelia's life when she fell pregnant with the spawn of a Haxil Beast, he now owed big money to bad trouble. Home wasn't a healthy place for a small half demon to hang out by himself right now.

He went to the fridge and took out another beer. He sat at the table, hoping Angel would join him there, in the dark, soon enough.

* * *

Wesley overbalanced trying one of his more energetic dance moves, but his enthusiasm for the night was not quashed. He made his way over to where Angel was standing and scooped himself up a handful of ice, which he crushed against his sweaty forehead. 'I need to cool off,' he explained. 'Cordelia certainly knows how to throw a do. These mini reubens with the sauerkraut and swiss inside - what mad genius thought of these?' He leaned in closer to the silent vampire, 'what say a couple of brooding demon hunters go chat up some of the fillies mmm?'

As if on cue, a pretty girl appeared at his side and smiled flirtatiously. 'Nice sweater' she said. Wesley began to choke on his mini reuben. 'Hand knit?'

'Certainly not by me,' he replied quickly.

'I didn't mean - I mean it's a great sweater.'

'Oh well I'll pass that on then - to the person who knit it - or I would if I knew who it were - which I don't … So I won't be passing it on to anyone, will I?'

'Uhuh,' she said and wandered off again.

...

'Diego! Pants on!' Cordelia yelled, running past.

...

Angel was faring just as badly as Wesley. He was talking to Laura, or at least, she was talking to him. He was struggling to construct coherent sentences back at her. He just wasn't good with people! He'd been trying over the past few months. Doyle had told him to get into people's lives (though Angel couldn't help but notice this seemed to be a 'do as I say not as I do' kind of deal, because Doyle was nowhere to be seen) but Laura didn't need help; and away from the helpless, Angel was floundering. He wasn't that great even with the helpless, if he was honest with himself.

'So, with my masters degree in fine arts, I was able to launch my very own business … selling sandwiches downtown from a little cart.'

'Huh'

'Yeah … I do see some stuff on the job, so I tell myself I'm honing my eye.'

'...makes sense,' he smiled uncomfortably.

The music changed. Laura put down her drink and began to move her body in time to the beat, shimmying, but far more successful at it than Wesley. 'I love this song,' she smiled, 'wanna dance?'

It was like he was Doyle and he was having a vision. Like the Powers that Be were sending him a picture message straight to his brain. _He saw himself wiggling his hips and shaking his arms erratically, an enthused expression on his normally dour face, as Laura stood by watching in horror. Imaginary Angel began to clap his hands in time to the beat as he strutted in circles around the dance floor, only imaginary Wesley danced alongside him - everyone else backed off, staring. Imaginary Cordelia stood in the corner, weeping with shame._ On second thoughts, none of Doyle's visions could ever be that uncomfortable. 'I don't dance' he said, quickly.

Just like the girl who had struck out with Wesley, Laura walked off. Angel made his way to the kitchen. It was dark and there was Doyle. They shared a companionable beer, served to them by Dennis, and waited out the night together.

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle were in the office together, when Angel came up in the elevator the next morning. He frowned in Doyle's direction. The Irishman was lying out on the couch, looking for all the world like he had spent the night there. And now Angel came to think of it, that looked suspiciously like the same shirt he had been wearing at the party. The vampire sniffed slightly, suspicions confirmed thanks to his predatory senses: Doyle hadn't showered recently and those _were_ the same clothes. He filed away this information for now, planning on finding out more about it later, when Cordelia wasn't there, as there was no chance Doyle would talk about whatever trouble he was in in front of her.

'Is there any coffee?' he asked Cordelia, pretending he thought everything was fine.

'They're still in bean form,' she replied. 'I thought I ordered them ground'. She handed the silver bag to him, 'maybe you could crush them with you vampire strength? Just mush the bag. Mush it.'

Angel looked from the bag to Cordelia and then decided against her advice, putting it down on the side. 'Great party last night,' he said.

'I'm so glad you came,' she answered, 'both of you. You know how it is, when you throw a party and it's just so worrying that no one will be Joe recluse in the kitchen and there won't be anybody to suck all the energy out of the room like a giant black hole of boring.'

'I didn't mean to suck ...boring?'

'You just stood there, glowering, you didn't dance you didn't talk.'

'I talked to people - Laura.'

'Laura thinks you hate her, I had to tell her you were challenged.'

'But sometimes it can be cool,' the vampire suggested, 'someone mysterious and quiet and reserved.'

At that moment, the door opened and Wesley walked into the office: 'hello all'

'He was cooler than you,' Cordelia said, jerking her head towards the newcomer to the room.

'OK, now I'm depressed.' Angel leaned against the doorway in a sulk. Doyle had remained quiet the whole time, there was something seriously wrong with him, the vampire realised.

'I say that was quite the soiree last night, Cordelia, those mini reubens were something else … you don't happen to have any more lying around do you? Any leftovers?'

'Wesley, are you broke?' Angel asked.

'Really, Angel, a man's finances are …'

'Would you like a job?'

'Yes please.'

'That's great!' Cordelia said 'Now we're really a … do me and Doyle have to take a pay cut?' Angel shook his head 'A team!' she finished brightly.

'Angel' gushed Wesley 'I won't disappoint, you, I shall prove my worth .. excuse me I have something in my eye.'

He turned his back and dabbed at his eyes just as Doyle proved his worth to the team by getting hit by a vision. He grabbed at his head as his body convulsed where it lay on the couch, and when it was finished, he sat up slowly, looking sick. 'What did you see?' asked Angel. Wesley grabbed a pad and pencil, ready to take notes.

'You're goin' to the ice factory down on 5th,' Doyle told his boss.

'What am I looking for?'

'A corpse.'

'I'll head off then.'

'I'm coming with you,' Wesley announced 'I intend to earn my keep.'

'Angel, man, this guy was burned alive at the ice factory. Whatever did it might still be there. Y' have to be careful'

'Did you get a look at what did it?'

He shook his head 'Nope. Just felt his fear, and then felt his eyeballs explode.' That explained why the half demon had been looking so green. 'Did I mention recently that I hate this gig?'

The vampire and the ex watcher left the office. Doyle lay back down and was pleasantly surprised when he discovered Cordelia standing next to him, bearing water and aspirin.

* * *

The two men arrived at the ice factory and Angel instructed Wesley to wait for him outside. The vampire proceeded cautiously into the building where he immediately came across the burnt body he had been sent to find. Grimacing a little, he fished into the corpse's pockets and pulled out a wallet. It had a business card inside: Peter Wilkers - private security. He pocketed it and then continued with his search of the building. As he walked through the rooms he was aware of someone following him, though he showed no signs to tip his stalker off that he had been rumbled. Using his vampire speed and stealth, he got behind the mystery person and grabbed hold of him just as his stalker reached for a crowbar.

'Captain inferno I presume?' Angel asked. It was a demon, with two ridges running up the side of his face, Angel had never seen anything like him before. He flipped the crowbar out of his hand. 'Don't come too close, I don't do well near an open flame.' Then he spotted a burn on the demon's arm. He used the crowbar to push the fabric of the demon's clothes away from the wound and examined it more closely - and realised what it meant. 'Only you didn't burn that guy, did you?'

'I am called Tay,' the demon told him. 'I'm not from your dimension. I have been sent to stop it.'

'Stop what?'

'The bringer of chaos.'

'What is it? Demon?'

Tay shook his head. 'It is more than just a demon, it is a vessel of pure rage, it has brought chaos on my world and now it is free in yours'

Well that didn't sound good - no wonder Doyle had had a vision. 'How do I kill it?' Angel demanded.

'You cannot kill it,' Tay replied. 'It is stronger than any one man. If you and your people wish to live - stay away.'


	18. She: Part Two

'D'ya think I shouldda offered to go with Angel?' Doyle had finally moved himself from his prone position on the green sofa and had travelled the acres of distance to the chair next to Cordy's desk. He was slumped down in it, shuffling his pack of cards as he spoke. Playing with the cards was one of the things he'd done to help himself quit smoking, it kept his hands busy and his mind focused on something other than a cigarette. It had now become a habit that he fell into whenever he was bored or distracted or anxious.

'What?' Cordelia glanced up from what she was doing, looking mildly irritated by the interruption - she was sorting the post and, from the look on her face, bills had featured heavily in the new arrival.

'When Wesley went off with Angel to the Ice factory, d'ya think I should've offered to go with him instead?'

'Why would you do a thing like that?'

'I just think I'm the one that's meant to help Angel, that's all. If Wesley starts goin' with him every time there's a case...'

'Then Wesley will end up dead in a very short space of time. Relax! He isn't moving in on your turf, he's just overcompensating because he got fired from the council and he doesn't want to get fired again. As long as you're vision boy, you'll always be Robin to Angel's Batman.'

Doyle smiled. 'Does it have to be Batman and Robin? Green hot pants not really my thing, y' know?'

'Well get used to it boywonder ... you know that's the best analogy. Anyway', she continued, suddenly looking very interested in the post. 'If someone's gonna have to uselessly hang around the office doing absolutely nothing all day, I'd much rather it was you than Wesley.'

'Yeah?' Doyle looked over at her, busily shuffling envelopes, a sudden hopeful expression on his face.

'Yes', she said, all pragmatism. 'Wesley fusses too much, you're much quieter.'

He waited a beat, and then decided that now was as good a time to talk to her as any; they were alone and she'd just said something borderline nice, which was the best you could ever hope for with Cordy.

'Listen Cordelia, I'm sorry I wasn't around the other week … y'know with the Haxil beast and everythin'.'

She looked confused, wondering why he was suddenly bringing this up. 'That's OK', she said, 'Angel and Wesley totally had everything under control.'

'Yeah. They did. But I feel bad that I wasn't there for y', y'know, when you needed me.'

'Angel told me what you did for me, Doyle.' Doyle looked at her, wondering what she knew. 'He said it was you that found Wilson and identified the Haxil, I don't know how you did it, but I'd have been a lot worse off if you hadn't done that. You were there for me, you just weren't _there_ for me. But you were more use doing whatever it was you did than keeping a vigil by my sickbed, holding my hand.'

He nodded his head slowly, remembering what he'd done, thinking about how much trouble he was now in. It was worth it, to save Cordelia anything was worth it, but he was still scared.

'Besides,' she hadn't finished, 'I knocked Wesley out pretty hard with that book. I'd hate to have done the same to you!'

'Yeah?'

'Duh! You get enough head trauma from the visions and the amount of alcohol you drink. I can't go around killing off more of your brain cells, you'd wake up in a coma!'

'Wake up in a coma? …' He shook his head. 'So have you sworn off all men for all time, now, or somethin'? '

'Well, I'm certainly gonna vet any guy I do date a heck of a lot more closely. No demons need apply!' She suddenly gave him a very warm, inviting smile: 'It's strictly human guys of the non evil variety from here on out.'

'Yeah, well, Cordelia … the thing about that is…'

... Angel and Wesley walked back into the office. Cordelia switched her attention to them 'How'd it go?' Doyle slumped back into his chair, another strike out!

Angel grabbed a piece of paper and quickly sketched the face of the demon he had met and handed it to Wesley. Even though the drawing had been completed in a matter of seconds, it was a perfect depiction of the demon's likeness. Cordelia was an excellent artist herself, but Angel had had 200 extra years to perfect the craft.

'He said his name was Tay', Angel told the team. 'He seemed pretty shaken up, said this thing brings chaos and destruction to the world.'

'Hmmm.' Wesley scrutinised the picture: 'Tay? Could be a kovitch demon from the Caucasus.'

'He said he wasn't from our dimension.'

'He must have come through a portal.'

'There are portals now?' Cordelia sounded annoyed. 'When did they put those in? Don't we have enough demons of our own without burning monster fiends coming here?'

Doyle smiled at her, comfortingly. 'It's better that the traffic is in this direction', he told her. 'I've heard horror stories about innocent humans getting sucked into portals to demon dimensions. Your average Joe won't do very well trapped in one of those, I'm thinking.'

'Great, Doyle, now I'm going to be stuck with serious thoughts all day.'

But Wesley had no time for Cordelia and Doyle's heading off on a tangent. Unlike them, he was determined to prove his worth to his boss and earn his keep. 'We'll figure out who he is, where he comes from - boss - you can count on it.'

'Wesley - stop kissing butt, it's not like we get paid over time.' Cordelia glanced at Angel, 'but we'll totally get right on it.'

'Find out if there's been any ..'

'Killings by incineration lately? See? on it.' Then she quickly got up from behind the computer. 'Or, Doyle is, anyway. He's the net boy, I'll be book girl, with Wesley.'

'OK, you guys get on that.' Angel started to head back out of the door.

'Where you off to now, bud?' Doyle called after him, as he settled himself behind Cordelia's computer.

'The victim's office, he was in private security. I want to find out who hired him.'

'Uhuh, sure y' don't want me to come with?'

'No, look through the news reports, see if you can find anything on the net, I'll speak to you later.' The vampire strode out of the door, and the rest of his team settled down for another research party.

* * *

Angel had broken into the victim's office and was rifling through his desk drawers. He found an invoice for the ice factory with some twenty dollar bills attached to it, he removed the bills and pocketed the invoice. A noise in the doorway made him aware that he was no longer alone. A woman stood there, her deep, violet eyes and ridges down the side of her face marking her out as clearly not human. She looked to be the from the same world as Tay, and she did not appear happy to see Angel.

'What are you doing here?' she demanded.

'I could ask you the same question.'

'Working for _them_. Is that it? How much do they pay you to hunt us?'

'I work for myself', Angel told her. 'And I'm here because I'm looking for this guy's killer. He was burned alive, so much so his eyeballs exploded, so I'm told. Pretty hard to forget. You know anyone that can do that?'

The demon woman moved as if to attack him, Angel picked up the desk chair to block her but she moved fast and was able to duck under it and strike his chest, sending him flying across the room. Before she could press home her advantage, however, her cell phone rang and instead of continuing to fight Angel, she turned away and answered it. Whatever news she was given was clearly important, as she turned on her heel and left as swiftly as she had arrived.

...

Angel followed her out to her car, silently, so she wouldn't know. Once she had driven off he leapt into his own vehicle ready for pursuit. En route he remembered that he had finally succumbed to Cordelia's pleading about carrying a cellular phone. He fished it out and dialled the office. Doyle answered 'Angel Investigations we hope to help the … hang on what is it again?'

'I hate this cell phone Cordelia gave me,' Angel interrupted.

'Angel, man! How's it going?'

'I met a demon, I'm following her, any luck at your end?'

'I've found 4 incinerations in the last year, man, nasty stuff. But I don't think there's been any luck with the demon guy. You said you found the thing that did it?'

'Not a thing, a she. Demon woman.'

'Yeah, what she look like?' He waved Cordelia over to listen. Cordy grabbed the sketch of Tay and flipped it over to the blank side.

'Violet eyes ...uhuh … two raised ridges down the side of her face…' Doyle was repeating Angel's description to Cordelia so she could draw this new demon for the team. 'Short dark hair … really? An attractive demon?... I dunno man, I don't swing that way myself.'

...

The phone began to make beeping noises, it was running low on battery. As it died, Angel threw it onto the back seat in frustration.

...

Back at the office Doyle looked at Cordelia expectantly. 'Did'y get all that down, Darlin'?'

'It's the best I can do on what _little_ information I was given.' She showed him her sketch, a female version of Tay. it wasn't as faithful a representation as Angel had made earlier, but for someone who hadn't actually seen the subject of their drawing; it was pretty good.

'So I guess we're lookin' for two demons now?'

'Looks like.'

* * *

Meanwhile, Angel was following the demon woman into an art gallery. He saw her stop to talk to one of the security guards and realised she knew she was being followed. Taking off his coat he tried to blend in with the gallery visitors as he tracked her through the crowd. As the security guards closed in on him, the vampire turned suddenly towards a painting hanging on the wall and began addressing the group of people looking at it, as if he were a tour guide. 'And this brings us to Manet's incomparable 'La Music Aux Tuilerie'. First exhibited in 1863, on the left one spies the painter himself. In the middle distance is the French writer and critic, Baudelaire, a friend of the artist. Baudelaire, now, he was an interesting fellow. In his poem 'Le Vampire' he wrote: 'Thou who as abruptly as a knife didst come into my heart.' He - ah - strongly believed that evil forces surrounded mankind and some even speculated that the poem was about a real life vampire.' He chuckled in derisive amusement and the onlookers laughed along with him.

He noticed the security officers wandering off and knew it was safe to wind up this little impromptu art lecture. 'Baudelaire, in real life, was actually a little taller and a lot drunker than he is depicted here', he finished up, and then walked off to a round of applause from the people he had been talking to. Back to his mission, Angel headed towards the door he had seen the demon woman walk through as he was speaking.

* * *

Wesley was in his element, surrounded by dusty old books that he leafed through with a feverish enthusiasm. Cordelia, on the other hand, was asleep. Doyle had left the computer, having found evidence of the demon woman's previous work, and had joined in with his colleagues research. He and Cordy had sat together on the sofa, and as she had got sleepier and sleepier she had begun to lean more and more heavily against him. Now she was properly curled up and using him as a pillow, her head resting somewhere between his shoulder and his chest. He had put his right arm around her and was absentmindedly stroking her hair as he read his book.

Wesley, alone at the desk, sniffed disapprovingly at Cordelia's lack of professionalism. He noted how comfortable the two of them looked, propped up against each other, and he noticed the way Doyle was touching her, without either of them seeming to be aware of it. After Cordelia's disastrous date with Wilson Christopher, and the unfortunate incident with the spawn of the Haxil Beast, Wesley was not sure where she and Doyle were relationship wise. There was definitely something there between them, but what that something was remained a mystery - to the two of them, as well as everyone else.

He turned over the next page of his book and sat bolt upright. Excitedly, he read the words printed beside the picture he had found, and then grabbed the drawing Angel had made of Tay, in order to compare the two. 'Aha!'

His voice cut suddenly through the silent office and disturbed Cordelia, who jerked awake. Doyle, just as suddenly, disentangled his arm from around her, looking like he had only just realised he had been stroking her hair. She gave him a fleeting, confused look, like she wasn't sure if they'd just been cuddled up together or not. But the way she felt instantly cold on sitting up suggested that she was now missing his body warmth. 'That had better be an 'Aha' of triumph,' she said, 'I was dreaming of a going out of business sale at Niemans.'

'I think I've located them, The Vigories of Oden Tal.'

'The whattees of what?' She slumped back into her seat, wriggling ever so slightly closer to Doyle, hoping to recapture some of the warmth she had been unwittingly enjoying without making it obvious what she was trying to do.

'Oden Tal. The men are called Vigories, they are said to be fierce warriors and the women live enslaved to them.'

'Pfft!' Cordelia exclaimed in disgust, shooting a dirty glance at Doyle and then Wesley. 'What is it with the Y chromosome? If you're not impregnating women with demon spawn then you're keeping them as slaves to wash out your tighty whities. Is it a penis thing? Does having one of those just stop you from being able to be a decent human being?'

'Well I'll apologise on behalf of my entire sex, Cordy, but in our defence, these Vigories _aren't_ human beings, yeah?' Doyle then turned towards Wesley. 'Does it say anything in there about how we can find them?'

'It says that the men are herbivores. They eat a thick stew made of rotting plants and flowers and they have to consume half their body weight a day.'

'Well that oughtta keep 'em busy.'

'So what? We're looking for the biggest compost heap in L.A?' Cordelia asked, the three of them looked at each other and then, with a groan, Doyle heaved himself off the sofa and returned to the computer to see if he could find anything that fit that description on the net.

* * *

Angel found the demon in an empty room, waiting. She was surprised to see him, a human would have been unconscious for hours after the blow she had given him back at the victim's office. She stepped closer and then stiffened in recognition: 'You're a vampire.'

'Among other things. Who's Tay? What does he want with you?' Angel questioned.

'I don't have time for this'

'If you didn't burn that guy, then who did? Someone like you?'

They were interrupted when the air began to shimmer and shriek. A circular distortion rent through the atmosphere, growing larger and larger, a bright white light emanating from it. All of a sudden, a naked girl fell out of the portal and then it closed up behind her. 'Stay back', the demon said as she crouched over the newcomer and then, addressing the girl: 'we must go.'

'What are you running from?' Angel asked, as he pulled down a wall hanging and used it to cover the newly arrived demon woman.

'It is not your concern, you are not one of us.'

The door opened suddenly - kicked in from the outside - and Tay, along with a handful of other heavily armed vigories, entered the room.

'No, but I think I'll stick around anyway.' Angel told the demon woman.

'You should do as it says.' Tay said to him. 'This does not concern you.'

Angel answered by kicking him in the face. Then he threw a punch at another man. Beside him, the strange woman had also gone on the offensive. Angel and the demon woman fought the vigories fiercely, but Tay was not here for a fight and he and two of the others grabbed the newcomer and pushed her out through the door. Angel and the woman took out the rest, but they were too late. Winning their fight, the two unlikely allies were finished just in time to see a car drive off, the new demon girl trapped inside.

'They got her,' Angel said - staring after the car. 'What will happen to her now?'

The woman was also staring after the car - staring at her failure. Her eyes were dark and unfathomable and her voice, when she was spoke, was heavy. 'She will be unmade.'


	19. She: Part Three

The demon girl was dragged through an empty warehouse by the vigories. She struggled and pleaded with them the whole way: 'you don't have to do this, please I'll be good. Please don't do this.'

'Why does it speak when no one listens?' wondered Tay out loud. One of his warriors brought him a sharp looking implement. When she saw it; the girl struggled harder and began to cry out, but she was held firmly in place by the bigger, stronger male demon. The wall hanging, which Angel had draped across her, was yanked down to reveal a row of ridges running along her neck and upper spine. Tay placed the implement against the first of the ridges and began to cut. The girl screamed.

* * *

Angel had brought the demon woman back to his apartment, she was curious about him, wanting to know why he was helping her when she knew vampires to be killers.

'They are,' Angel told her. 'I was cursed by gypsies.'

'Cursed to help people?'

He didn't answer. Instead he changed the subject. 'Want to tell me what's going on?'

'That girl was a runaway, I was helping her escape our homeland.'

'Why was she running away?'

The demon told him. In Oden Tal their personalities, what they referred to as their Ko, were located in the ridges that ran along their spines. She turned around to expose the back of her neck to Angel, showing him the ridges that ran along there. Their Ko controlled their passions and even their arousal, glowing red when they found a desirable mate. But the vigories wished to take this from the women, to make them easier to control. They would cut the women, remove their personalities, unmake them.

'We marry who they tell us to,' she said, 'serve them without question, we leave behind dreaming.'

'But you escaped?'

'I was the first. I am Jheira.' She said this as if she expected Angel to understand, instead he looked nonplussed. 'Jheira of Oden Tal', she continued when she saw his clueless expression. 'My family rule the dimension.'

'I'm guessing the royal family aren't happy that you've escaped and are helping others to do the same?'

'They tell everyone I am dead,' Jheira admitted, 'but the women know. Once we are here, we are free. But it is hard at first. When the Ko first matures the girls can't handle it - the physical energy. They come to your world in a fever.'

He finally understand how the ice factory fit into all of this. 'One of your girls burned that guard.'

'He tried to touch her, she couldn't control it. It wasn't her fault.'

'And it wasn't his. What about the other 4 men who have died this past year, did your girls kill them to?'

'How do you know this?' she demanded. 'Have you been …'

'I've not been following you,' Angel said to her, evenly, 'but if you go around incinerating people eventually someone will start to ask questions. Now I understand what you're doing and I'll help you if I can, but you can't go around hurting men in my world.'

Jheira stiffened and stood up straight, pulling herself up to her full height, approaching Angel as she spoke. 'I am a daughter of a King.' She told him, fire glowing in her eyes as her anger burned inside of her. 'A King who promised a better world for all, and I will make this true for the women. I did not escape to your dimension to help myself alone. If a few have to die to protect my people...'

'They're my people that are dying,' Angel interrupted. 'And it's _my_ promise to protect them.'

'Then tell them to stay out of my way,' she breathed at him, furious at his interference. She stood perilously close to the vampire for a few seconds, her hand against his chest, looking up at him, breathing heavily. Then she turned and walked up the stairs, her Ko glowing bright red. Angel was left alone in the apartment, had he not been a vampire, he would have been breathing heavily too.

* * *

Wesley, Cordelia and Doyle had wound up at the California flower mart, Doyle having identified this as the most likely place for the herbivorous vigories to base themselves. Cordy was unimpressed by the mulchy stench of rotting plant matter and was wishing they had stayed home or waited for Angel.

'Cordelia!' Wesley chided. 'Now that I'm officially in Angel's employ, I feel it's doubly important to show initiative and drive. We can't just dally about …' he got distracted by some roses. 'Look, Nancy's petticoat', he exclaimed, 'they're quite rare. They're named for Nancy Mitford, the author, because of her love for..' He trailed off as he saw the expression on Doyle and Cordy's faces, mutual exasperation etched into every line. 'Right shoving off then,' he said.

'Where do we find where they keep the compost?' Cordelia asked.

'Just follow your nose, darlin', it's pretty unmistakeable.' Doyle told her. In his demon form he would have been able to find the scent of the vigories themselves fairly easily, his demon senses were quite well attuned to otherworldly things. But in his human form he was no better off than the other two - and he didn't see an opportunity to change face in secret and speed up the process. As the three of them crept through the mart, they heard Tay's voice floating through the space. Realising he must be close, they ducked quickly behind some barrels, listening in to what the vigory was saying from the safety of their hiding place.

It was quite a close fit. The three of them were crammed behind the barrels, and Doyle found himself squashed up very close to Cordy... which was at least better than being squashed up very close to Wesley. But his legs were cramping from crouching down and his palms were sweating; he could smell the flowery scent of the shampoo in her hair, and the traces of perfume she'd spritzed on that morning. Her proximity made his heart beat faster, and he wondered if hers was beating faster too. But the sweet smell of the fragrances she had adorned herself with also reminded him that he, himself, hadn't showered for the past two days, so determined was he not to return to his apartment. He hoped the smell of the compost would drown out the smell of his own musk, that Cordelia's human senses wouldn't be able to separate out one unpleasant scent from the other.

Cordelia moved slightly and her long hair brushed past his face, tickling his nose. With horror, he realised he was going to sneeze and started desperately trying to stop it. Wesley noticed what was going on and looked alarmed. He was thinking of the noise a sneeze would make, how it would give them away. That would be bad. But it definitely wasn't Doyle's main concern. Carefully, so as not to make a sound, he shuffled himself as far away from Cordelia as he could manage, stifling the sneeze as long as he could. He did his best to turn as far away from her and Wesley as possible and, when he could hold it in no longer, brought his hands over his face as he finally sneezed.

Fortunately, he managed to do it very quietly. Nevertheless, he still felt a sudden stabbing pain in his hands as the spikes flew out of his face. He shook off his demon face as quickly as he could and looked back around. Cordelia didn't seem to have noticed anything, he was reassured to discover. She was too busy peering over the barrels trying to see what Tay was up to. 'Gesundheit' she whispered, not even looking at him. Relief flooded through Doyle's chest, so much so that he didn't noticed the puzzled, concerned look on Wesley's face. The ex watcher had thought he'd seen … but no, it must be a trick of the light.

...

'The Portal will open soon,' Tay was telling the other vigories, 'and only for a short space of time, you will escort it back home, ensure its quick return and then rejoin me here. We have much work to do in this dimension.' He turned to speak to a female demon who was standing next to him, covered only in what looked like an expensive wall hanging. 'It can go home now. Would it like that? Would it like to go home?'

'It is happy to go, as soon as you say,' the girl replied, in a voice devoid of any emotion.

'And don't you feel better now?' Tay asked her, moving far too close into her personal space. She said nothing about the intrusion and just nodded blankly. Behind the barrels the three members of team Angel looked at each other, confused; not fully understanding what exactly they were witnessing.

* * *

Jheira had returned to the place of safety, where she kept her refugee girls hidden from the world. It was a spa outside of the city and they were protected by the man who owned it. He was human, and male, and owed them nothing; but still he looked out for them and allowed them sanctuary. It was a kindness that Jheira had never experienced or expected from a male of any species. But even so, today she was angry at all that had transpired and so was abrupt in her greeting of him. 'Where are the girls?' she asked with no word of hello.

'And Namaste to you too,' he replied. 'They're right where you left them. Are you OK?' He asked as she walked off, 'you look spun.'

'They took the girl I went to collect', she told him, as she looked around the room that held her girls. They were all asleep in tubs of ice. 'They will find us here before long, we must leave as soon as possible.'

'The girls aren't ready.' The man said. 'They need some serious isolation and cooling down before they are mellow enough to deal with the world.'

'Then we will go somewhere else,' Jheira said.

He thought about their options. 'My shaman has a place in the desert, He could never turn away scantily clad women from any dimension.'

'Call him', the demon requested, 'If he is as trustworthy as you, we will go to him.' Then she scooped up some of the ice from the nearest tub and rubbed it across her throat and down her neck, feeling the instant relief that only the frozen water could bring.

* * *

The three of them were still rammed in behind the barrels, listening to the vigories talk amongst themselves. 'The food supply here should last us another couple of days,' one of them was saying, 'but then we will have to relocate.'

Doyle had taken out his cell phone and was trying to ring Angel. It got to the answer machine and he clicked his phone shut and shook his head. 'Still no answer', he whispered.

'I bet he forgot to switch it on.' Cordelia was annoyed. 'You would think someone who knows how to use an ancient Scythian short bow could work out how to use a cell phone.' She looked between the two men, 'so what now?' she asked. Wesley appeared not to have been listening, he wore a troubled, far off look on his face as if something was bothering him. But at her words he seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. 'I suppose we head back and try and find Angel,' he said to her, before frowning in Doyle's direction, the puzzlement clouding his eyes once more.

Cordelia nodded and began to move; when another Vigory entered the mart. She ducked back down, squashed even closer to Doyle in her haste to be hidden from view. He put his arm round her to support her and help them both balance in their awkward position. He was as soft as she had remembered him being from the time she had hugged him after saving him from the empath demon. He was as soft as she thought he would be when she had compared her memory of him to the hard muscles of Wilson Christopher. She was definitely over muscles. And successful men with no substance. Soft feeling men who were brave and kind, that's what she wanted now, even if she hated to admit it to herself. She just wasn't as shallow as she liked to pretend to be.

...

The Vigory who had just entered had news. 'Sir,' he was speaking to Tay, 'I believe we have found them.'

'Where?'

'I spoke to a worker from the ice factory, who said they had recently started shipping two tons of ice a week to this address.' He handed Tay a piece of paper, Tay scanned it briefly.

'Gather the men. They need to be prepared to capture the princess and cut them all quickly.'

The vigories left and, after a safe amount of time had passed, the three members of Team Angel came out from their hiding place and hurried away from the flower mart, returning to their office to give the news of Jheira's discovery to their vampire boss.

* * *

The three of them ran down the stairs into Angel's apartment and came to a dead halt when they saw the vampire emerge into the main room, wearing nothing but his boxers and towelling off his wet hair. 'What the heck are you doing?' cried Cordelia. 'We nearly got burned alive from the inside out and you're here getting all April fresh?'

'Hello?' the vampire said, in confused response, not understanding why his secretary was so very annoyed with him.

'I believe she is so very agitated because we tried to call you in the midst of a situation,' Wesley explained, also sounding a bit put out. Angel looked towards Doyle and the eyes of the two demons met, Angel looking for explanation or understanding. Doyle shrugged at him, he wasn't annoyed like the other two; his boss didn't like cell phones and he hadn't known where his three employees had disappeared to.

Cordelia and Wesley seemed to be forgetting that this was a mission they had chosen to go on, and not one they had been sent on. Angel hadn't been expecting to hear any news from them, so he had got on with his own thing. His own thing had been a shower, which made Doyle very envious. He watched the last droplets of water trickle out of Angel's hair and down his neck and exposed shoulders, and wished that he dared to go back to his own place for a shower. And some deodorant. And a clean shirt.

But Cordelia was not giving up being irritated. She gestured at the half naked vampire in fury, taking in all his undressed state: 'what gives?' she demanded.

'I needed to take a shower', Angel replied, giving away nothing. 'So what's up?'

'What's up is that those creepy demons found what they were looking for. And they seemed very interested in cutting someone called the Princess, which I cannot imagine is a happy thing.'

'Well you'd be right there', her half naked boss told her. 'We need to find her first.'

'The vigory said they'd found out about a shipping order for a whole load of ice, but they didn' say where,' Doyle informed Angel.

'Ice?' Angel was thoughtful

'Yep'

Angel went to where his coat was hanging up and pulled the invoice he had taken from the victim's office out of the pocket. He straightened it out and read it, then waved in the direction of the other three 'Ice shipping order, we've got an address. We need to move out.'

'That's it?' Wesley seemed panicked 'they seemed … there were quite a few of them. Maybe we need a plan?'

'We go in there, I start hitting people in the face, hard. See where that takes us.' And without another word the vampire swept off back to his bedroom to put his clothes back on.


	20. She: Part Four

It was night time. So Angel was driving, and he had put the roof down as they went. Cordelia liked a convertible as much as the next person, but she knew he'd only done that to look cool in front of hot demon lady. He was such a poser. Besides, if she'd known she was going for a drive in a convertible she would have tied her hair back. Her long tresses blew around in the breeze as Angel sped towards their destination, and, as it whipped around her face, she knew it was going to take many long and painful minutes to tease all the knots back out of her hair. So she was grumpy.

'What's with him, anyway?' She hissed at Doyle, who was sat in the back with her, 'what was with the mid afternoon shower?'

'I think it's the demon lady,' Doyle smiled back at her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively in an attempt to convey his meaning.

'What? How hot can she be?'

'Well, I think the hotness and the burning people alive are all part of the same thing, yeah?'

'Over active sexual energy?' Cordelia squealed, 'boy, I've seen that before, it never ends well!'

Doyle looked at her, wanting to know more. He knew she'd grown up on the hellmouth, but he sometimes forgot that that meant that she had more experiences in demonology than the men of the office ever gave her credit for. She alone had been battling the forces of darkness since her mid teens, the three men had all been adults before they had entered the good fight. Seeing his look, she went into explanation mode.

'There was a poltergeist at school one time that went totally wiggy around the night of the Sadie Hawkins dance. People kept getting possessed by it; the janitor shot one of the teachers; Casper then flooded the high school cafeteria with snakes, and I got _bit on the face_!' Her voice went high with indignation as remembered that part. 'Willow was just starting to use magic then, so we tried an exorcism, using a mangled tripod thingy, but it didn't work. He chased us out of the building with a swarm of wasps.' Doyle looked alarmed at her words, but she carried on without pause. 'We thought for a while that school would be closed forever, but Buffy and Angel sorted it all out … that was such a drag.'

'Angel helped sort it?'

'Yeah … well, no. He was evil at the time and Buffy was super mopey about the whole thing. The poltergeist had killed one of his teachers, he'd been in love with her but she broke it off, then he killed himself. He was looking for forgiveness. So was Buffy. They totally bonded. She shot Angel, but of course that didn't kill him, so the two ghosts had their happy reconciliation. No more crazy sexual energy. But it left Buffy even more mopey than usual. And Angelus … I don't know what he did. But like I said, uncontrolled sexual energy is definitely one to avoid, people tend to die. And our vampire friend up front is _not_ immune to it.'

'Well, we'll keep an eye on him, then, yeah?'

'Totally.'

They smiled at each other in quiet agreement of their need to protect Angel from himself... but the moment was ruined when Cordelia was hit right in her smiling mouth with her own flailing hair.

'Dammit! Angel! Put the roof up!'

* * *

The car pulled up in front of the spa with a melodramatic squeal of tyres, Angel leapt out over the door. Wesley attempted to do the same thing, and fell over his own foot. 'Doyle, you're with me, Cordy, Wesley you two stay out here, I want a warning when the demons show.' The vampire barked his orders. With a backwards glance at Cordelia, Doyle followed his boss into the spa. Cordelia helped Wesley get back to his feet.

...

The two demons were greeted by a man as they entered the spa: 'Welcome, bros, what can I do for…'

'I need to see Jheira. Now'

'Sorry, bro, no Jheira here, but I can already see how I can help _you._ First, let's talk about the clothes vibe.'

Doyle smirked to himself, but Angel was having none of it, and grabbed the man by the lapels. 'She's in trouble, there are men coming for her.'

'And what dimension are you from, brother?'

'Believe me, you don't wanna know.' The man jerked his head in the direction of the large room filled with tubs of ice, and Angel dropped him and stalked off. Doyle trailed behind him, giving an apologetic glance at the man as they went.

* * *

Outside, Wesley and Cordelia were leaning on the car, waiting for any signs of the Vigories. 'Cordelia?' Wesley asked 'How long have you known Doyle?'

She scrunched up her face, wondering about the question. 'I guess maybe 5 months? We met in September, when that Russell Winters guy tried to eat me, the next day we started Angel Investigations.'

'And what exactly do you know about him?'

She looked even more confused, but her expression changed to one of concentration as she focused on all the details of Doyle's life. 'Well, he drinks too much, and his taste in clothing is like a Greek tragedy.' She suddenly smiled. 'But he can be really sweet sometimes, y'know? Oh and it turns out he is not a guy worth inviting to your party, because he'll just mope alone in the kitchen and drink all your beer.'

'Is that all?'

'I guess … he has a lot of contacts in the demon underworld, knows all the card sharks and hustlers, he owes money to some of them … gets him into trouble sometimes. Angel helps him out though.'

'What about his family?'

'His family? He never mentions them …He has an Aunt Judy that drinks more than he does. I think they're in Ireland… hey, Wesley, why are you asking all these questions about Doyle?'

But Wesley didn't answer; down the road, headlights became clearly visible, shining in the dark. The Vigories were here.

* * *

Jheira was not happy to see Angel, she also took in Doyle's presence with a rather unimpressed glance. 'Why are you here?' she demanded.

'They're on their way, you need to get out.'

'I know all about it, we're moving tomorrow.'

'That'll be too late, they're coming for you now'

Cordy and Wes came running into the room. 'Right now!' Cordy gasped, 'that would be right now!'

Angel turned to the two newcomers: 'get the girls out', he told them and then spoke to the spa owner. 'You, go out front and stall them as long as you can.'

Wesley approached the first of the demon girls and immediately felt the power of her Ko overtake him 'oh my.. You are a … allow me to introduce myself.' Cordelia exchanged an exasperated glance with Doyle. 'Hey Angel, ' she said, 'maybe Doyle should help with the evacuation instead? He seems more immune to the charms of the chicks that burn.'

'Doyle stays with me, take them out, Cordelia.'

'OK OK.'

Her and Wesley roused all the sleeping demon women and began to herd them outside, Wesley gibbering nonsense the whole time.

'Doyle, put your game face on,' Angel told him once their two human coworkers were out of the way. Reluctantly, Doyle morphed into his spikes. Jheira gave a start of surprise, amazed that this small, unprepossessing man had suddenly turned into a fierce looking demon. Angel switched the lights off and then seemed to disappear...

...

A moment later, the Vigories had got past the spa owner and were upon them. The three began to fight, Angel swung down from the ceiling and kicked Tay in the face. Jheira was using her burning power to good effect, knocking the warriors off their feet with the strength of her heat. Doyle was rather hopelessly out matched, but, by allowing himself to get pummelled, he at least shortened the odds for Angel and Jheira and gave Cordelia and Wesley time to get the girls out.

* * *

Wesley was still as under the influence of the women as ever. 'That outfit,' he said to one of them, 'it quite becomes you you know.'

'Wesley get a grip,' Cordelia hissed. 'They can't hold off the demon guys forever, we need to get moving.' Wesley closed the lid on the first girl's new tub of ice and then turned to the next 'my what a grip .. very becoming.'

'Wesley! You're about to get your eyeballs fried, hurry up.' Cordelia barged him out of the way and sealed the last demon woman into her crate. 'Just one kiss goodbye' Wesley requested, but Cordelia was having none of it and closed the last lid without letting Wesley get another look in. The two of them then returned to the spa.

* * *

Doyle had just taken a very strong blow to the head, and lay face down on the floor, when he heard the returning footsteps of his two coworkers. Immediately, he morphed back into his human face, the hit he had just taken stinging all the harder now he was back in his weaker form. He turned himself over just in time to see Cordelia and Wesley grabbed by two of the Vigories and taken hostage. Angel, also noticing, stopped fighting at once, putting his hands up to show he gave in.

'Jheira and the runaways are ours,' Tay said.

'No, they're not,' replied Angel.

'Give them back or the humans die', the demon said, holding a knife to Cordelia's throat.

'Angel!' Doyle was still, but for his words, frozen in place by the immediate threat to Cordy, wanting his boss to rescue her above all other things.

Jheira, however was unmoved by the situation. 'Then they die', she said, and walked out.

The Vigories seemed momentarily stunned that their ploy had not worked, and Cordelia and Wesley took advantage of their confusion, elbowing them in the face and freeing themselves. The danger passed, Angel and Doyle resumed the fighting. But most of the Vigories left to follow Jheira.

* * *

She was intercepted just as she reached the truck holding her girls. One of the warriors grabbed hold of her and Tay loomed over her, pliers in hand, ready to unmake her. 'Time to go home' he said. She struggled but could not get free.

Once more, Angel swung out of nowhere, and grabbed Tay around the neck. He forced the Vigory away from Jheira and then spoke to the warrior demons: 'If you want your leader to live, let her go.' They released her and Jheira ran to the driver's seat of the truck, switched on the engine and drove away.

Angel grabbed the vigory by the lapels: 'take your war out of my world,' he demanded.

'We have no choice!' Tay protested. 'If the enemy persists then our society crumbles.'

'And if it persists on my turf you're going to make another enemy.'

Tay looked at Angel, 'You don't understand our ways, human'

'No I don't.' He morphed into his demon face. Tay looked unnerved by Angel's fangs and yellow eyes. 'And I'm not human. Now get the next portal out of here, and never come back.'

Angel released Tay, shook off his demon faces and then turned back to the car, where Doyle was fussing over the recently taken hostage Cordelia; and Wesley was waiting patiently.

* * *

Back in Angel's apartment, Angel was making them all eggs, as promised, after an all nighter.

'So they need to find Jheira, because if she keeps freeing the women they won't have hot and cold running slaves to do their bidding anymore? And they think that's, like, a _bad thing?_ ' Cordelia was scandalised. 'I don't like demon lady much, what with her being willing to have me killed and all, but I gotta say I get where she's coming from.' She turned back to Doyle 'What did I tell you about the Y Chromosome? Evil!' He smiled at her in agreement.

'Well, good work all round I'd say!' exclaimed Wesley finishing his eggs, and then yawning. 'But now I think it's time to head home, to prepare for the next danger. Coming Cordelia?'

'Yeah, I guess. Doyle?'

He nodded, thinking he would leave with the two human and then double back to the office once they were out of sight, but Angel was having other ideas. 'Actually Doyle, can you stay behind a minute? There's something I want to talk to you about.'

'Yeah, sure thing Angel, man'

Cordelia gave them a curious backwards glance but left with Wesley without saying anything. Once they were gone, Angel fetched a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses…

* * *

The next morning, Angel was alone in the upstairs office. He had left Doyle asleep on his couch and Cordelia and Wesley were yet to arrived. He picked up the silver bag of coffee beans and mushed them experimentally. He pressed harder, using all his vampire strength to try and crush the beans, but the bag exploded and the coffee beans littered the entire floor.

Cordy and Wes walked through the door and Wesley immediately slipped on a bean and fell down, hard, onto his back.

'Mushing didn't work out so great, huh?' asked Cordelia, Angel shook his head, looking at Wesley in concern. Doyle appeared out of the elevator and walked towards the outer office surveying the carnage, a bemused expression on his face.

'My fault I'm sure', Wesley was saying. 'Cagey little brutes, aren't they?' He swept up some of the beans. 'I'll wash them if you like, individually.'

'Wow, grovelling isn't just a way of life, for you, it's an art form,' Cordelia said, throwing a disbelieving look at Doyle, who responded in kind. She was pleased to notice he had a clean shirt on today, and the wetness of his hair suggested that showering may also have had a feature in his morning. She hadn't said anything over the past couple of days, because she hadn't known how to bring it up, but she was pleased he seemed back to normal levels of hygiene. That couldn't be a bad thing.

Wesley was still grovelling to Angel: 'please don't fire me, yesterday was an anomaly. I _rarely_ get taken hostage.'

'That's good to know, and you're not fired.'

'I'm not?'

'No, you know what? You handled yourself well yesterday.'

'Well that's .. I'll just say…' Wesley took a deep, emotional breath 'Angel I am your _faithful_ servant.'

Doyle and Cordy shook their heads at each other in amused disbelief. 'Like I said,' she said 'An art form.'

Just then, the main door to the office opened and Jheira walked inside. Cordelia gave her with a hostile glare; she may sympathise with the demon lady's cause, but she wasn't impressed at being collateral damage for it. Angel took the princess into his office to talk privately, and the other 3 sat out in the outer office pretending not to listen in.

After a few minutes, Jheira left - sweeping back through the office without even acknowledging the presence of the others. Her face was angry and her Ko was glowing bright red.

Left alone, Angel went downstairs to take another shower.


	21. I've Got You Under My Skin: Part One

The team were down in Angel's kitchen, the men were sitting around the table, Doyle was shuffling his playing cards. Cordelia was hovering by the oven, waiting for the timer to go off. Angel was examining a dagger that Wesley had procured for him. 'The mark of Kekfedlorem,' the vampire said, placing the knife back on the table. 'I've heard of it but I've never seen it before.'

'A knife with that mark on it is the only thing that will kill a Kek demon,' Wesley informed him. 'Could come in very useful.' Doyle raised his eyebrows and craned his neck over to get a better look at the dagger, although his hands never stopped the incessant shuffling of the cards.

'Very useful,' Angel replied, 'especially if Kek demons weren't extinct.' Doyle chuckled appreciatively. Wesley looked dismayed. 'They are? Oh dear. Well perhaps there's one hibernating eh? Ready to wake up any moment and go on a grisly rampage.'

'I'll keep my fingers crossed', promised the vampire, Doyle laughed again. Then the timer went off.

'They're ready!' Cordelia exclaimed in excitement 'No touching!'

'She's baking,' Angel explained to a confused looking Wesley.

'Oh is that what I smell? I thought I'd tracked something in.' Doyle shot him a disapproving glare, although the ex watcher did have a point.

'This recipe was handed to me from my mother,' Cordelia informed them, taking the pan out of the oven. 'And she got it from her housekeeper. Plus I improvised a little. You're gonna love them.' She turned her big, bright smile on her two non vampire colleagues. Doyle did his best to grin back enthusiastically, Wesley looked put out. 'Us? Doesn't Angel have to - get to try any?'

'These are brownies,' she said, as if explaining that two plus two equals four to someone very young and not very bright. 'They're full of nutty goodness, not red blood cells.' She was having trouble cutting into her brownies, she sawed away with the knife she held, but her baked goods seemed to be fighting back. 'Maybe if he branched out into solids once in awhile, Angel might keep a decent knife around here', she said in exasperation and then, spotting the dagger lying on the table, seized it triumphantly and went to work on her brownies with that.

'That is not appropriate,' yelled Wesley, jumping out of his seat. 'It's for killing extinct demons. Angel, make her stop!'

Doyle and Angel were too busy laughing to sympathise too much with Wesley, but Angel attempted to be the boss and intervene on the British man's behalf. 'Cordelia' he started, a rare smile lighting up his face as he spoke to her.

'That blade is very old,' Wesley interrupted him, using a much more hectoring tone of voice. 'Who knows what kind of corrosive effect your baking is having on it.'

Cordelia whirled around, dagger in hand. 'Corrosive effect?' she repeated in an offended tone, looking for all the world like she might carve Wesley with the knife instead of the brownies. Doyle threw his head back and laughed out loud: 'Cordelia, just put the very big knife down, yeah, darlin'? We don't want any accidents.'

'They don't smell right,' Wesley told Cordelia, gesturing at the brownies. He turned to the other two men for support, they both became suddenly very interested in anything besides the fight between Cordy and Wes.

'Oh, ho hey hang on a moment! I think Mr. too much cologne is the pot calling the kettle stinky.'

'No more fighting, OK?' asked Doyle, 'Cordelia, put Wesley's knife down, I'll help y' cut the brownies and then we can all enjoy them, yeah?' He looked around sternly at the other two men _'yeah?'_ he repeated in a more forceful voice.

'Yes, OK,' said Wesley, snatching his dagger back off Cordelia, carefully brushing crumbs off the blade.

'Absolutely' agreed Angel with forced enthusiasm. Doyle nodded at them both and then went to help Cordelia cut into her rock hard baking.

* * *

A while later, as Doyle and Wesley struggled through their indigestion, Cordelia went to look for Angel. She found him alone, upstairs in the office, reading one of his pretentious, old books. Or at least, he was pretending to. Cordelia had it on good authority, well... Doyle's, that the vampire stashed photographs of Buffy inside his reading material and often spent the long night hours just gazing at the slayer's image. It wasn't healthy, so it was a good job she was here to interrupt him. 'Hey Angel' she said, sitting down in the chair across from him. He put his book down to talk to her. 'What's up?' he asked.

'I wanted to ask you something … about Doyle,' she said a little hesitantly. The vampire looked at her, expectantly, waiting for the question. 'Is he living here with you, right now? What's going on? He went through a phase of not showering or changing his shirt a couple of weeks ago, but he appears to be over that now, thank goodness, but now he seems to be here all the time, like, _all the time.'_

'He's going through a rough patch,' Angel told her. 'It isn't safe for him at home at the moment.'

Cordelia snorted. 'Why? What'd he do?'

Angel thought back to their late night scotch drinking session a couple of weeks ago, the night they had helped Jheira escape, and thought about all the problems the little half demon had eventually confessed to him. He wondered where to start explaining it all to Cordelia, without betraying too much of Doyle's confidence. 'He owes someone, big time.'

'Well if he needs money, I ...'

Angel shook his head at her 'It isn't always about money, it's about favours. He asked for a big favour from someone he was already in debt to, real bad news, reminded him he was alive, which wasn't the best thing for his health. Now he doesn't know how or when this guy will collect, hence avoiding his place,'

'Why would Doyle get in contact with someone he owes money to?' Cordelia asked 'I've seen him dodging his creditors, he goes a long way to avoid some of his contacts. Why would he just change his mind and ask for a favour? Did he have, like, a surprise lobotomy or something?' She sounded annoyed at her colleague's stupidity.

Angel sighed and then looked her dead in the eye, she wanted to know, and Doyle deserved to not have her thinking badly of him. 'He did it for you,' he told her. Cordelia looked confused. 'He rang this guy when you got pregnant, that's how he found Wilson Christopher and identified the Haxil Beast. This guy's some big noise in the demon underworld, very well connected, he was Doyle's best shot for getting the info he needed and saving your life.' Cordelia said nothing for a long time, she gazed down, staring at her hands which were twisted in her lap. She bit her lip. Angel waited patiently.

'Why would he do a thing like that?' she asked eventually, barely raising her eyes to meet Angel's, her voice a whisper. She sounded like she very much regretted her annoyance from moments before. 'Why would he put himself into so much danger, just for me?'

'Because he loves you, Cordelia,' the vampire told her, kindly. Her head shot right up at those words. 'I know he hasn't said anything,' Angel continued, 'but I know he does.'

Before she could reply, the noise of elevator announced the arrival of Doyle and Wesley. Wesley pushed the gates aside and ushered Doyle into the office. The Irishman was looking rather the worse for wear, and it wasn't because of a bad reaction to the brownies. He had had a vision. Cordelia left her seat and held it out to Doyle, who collapsed, gratefully, into it. 'It was a family,' he told the others, 'two kids and their dad, 1256 Acacia Avenue, seem to be in trouble.'

'I'll set off then, Wesley?' Angel and Wesley left the office and Doyle slumped further into his chair, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the pain that still hammered away in his skull. Without a word, Cordelia retrieved the scotch bottle and poured him a generous glass. He looked at her in surprise, she didn't usually aid and abet his drinking habit. 'Can I get you some aspirin?' she asked as she handed him the tumbler.

'Please.'

She went and got the pill bottle as well, removing the cotton wool for him, as she knew he always struggled with it. He tipped out a couple of aspirin and tossed them back with his drink. 'Can I get you anything else? Do you want to lie down?' she wanted to know

'No,' he replied, 'thanks'. He was bemused as to where the Florence Nightingale act was coming from, it was not like his Cordelia to be so attentive and gentle, though he certainly wasn't complaining. She sat down in the chair Angel had just vacated and the two of them waited companionably for their colleagues to return from the case.

* * *

The car pulled up outside number 1256 just in time for the two men to witness a little boy, in his pajamas, crossing the road. He was walking right in front of the path of an oncoming vehicle. Angel dove out of the car and pulled the boy to safety, getting clipped on the shoulder by the oncoming car as he did so. The car beeped at them as it passed, but the boy was safe. 'You alright?' Angel asked him. The boy looked at Angel's shoulder and saw the injury the vampire had sustained. 'You're bleeding,' he said 'are you going to cry?'

'I don't think so,' Angel looked at his shoulder and then back at the boy with a smile. 'Let me think, no … yeah … uh no, I'm not going to cry.' The boy laughed 'What's your name?' Angel asked him.

'Ryan'

At that moment a man came running out of the house, calling frantically for Ryan. Ryan and Angel got to their feet and the man grabbed the boy, shaking him slightly. 'You know better than this, what were you doing?' he demanded. A woman followed him out of the house, Ryan's mother. She swept her son up in a hug. 'Ryan! Oh my God! What happened?'

'He was out in the street,' the father said, 'he nearly got hit by a car.'

She hugged her son even closer when she heard her husbands words. 'God, my baby!' She spotted Angel. 'Thank you, thank you for saving him.' Then she, like Ryan, noticed his shoulder 'Come inside, I'll fix you up.' The father did not seem pleased at the invite, but Angel went along anyway, it didn't seem likely that the powers had contacted Doyle just to tell him about a sleepwalking child in danger...

* * *

The woman, Paige, was concerned that the cut was beyond her abilities to clean up, that he might require stitches, but Angel assured her there was no need to fuss. She kept on laughing and thanking him and then laughing again. The father still did not seem happy, he kept trying to get Angel to leave, without saying so in as many words. It just made Angel more determined to stay as long as he possibly could.

'So how do you think Ryan got out onto the street?' Angel asked.

'Climbed out the window,' the man was still not giving anything away.

'We have burglar bars,' Paige explained, 'but he must be able to fit in between them, we never even thought to check.'

'So, where do you think he was going?'

'Going? he wasn't _going_ anywhere.' The man sounded like he was barely controlling his temper.

'Then he was trying to get away from something?'

'What would he be trying to get away from in his own house?' The two men stared at each other in silent challenge.

* * *

Meanwhile, Wesley was investigating the outside of the house. In the beam of his flash light he noticed some yellow streaks running down the side of the house. 'Oh dear.'

* * *

The father had started smoking, Paige had bustled off to get some bandages and the two men were left in uncomfortable silence. Noticing the boxes stacked all around the house, Angel decided to break the oppressive air of quiet. 'Have you just moved in?' he asked. The man nodded. 'Where did you live before?'

Paige came back with the bandages but exclaimed in surprise when she saw Angel's shoulder, his vampire healing meant that it had mended itself almost completely in the time she was gone. 'This was much worse!'

'It's just a scratch, Your husband was just telling me where you've moved from.'

'Akron,' she grimaced, 'one winter there was enough.'

'You know it's getting late,' the man said, trying to usher Angel out of the house. But his wife had not finished thanking their saviour, was not ready to let him disappear into the night. 'Come to dinner?' Paige asked him. 'Let us repay you for what you did.'

'We've taken up too much of Angel's time already,' her husband told her. Angel looked between the two of them. He noted the way that Paige was all eagerness, wanting to open up, but her husband kept putting up barriers - and forcing his family to hide behind them as well as himself. There was a secret in this house and the father was determined to keep it. Angel was equally determined to find out what it was. 'Can I bring something?' he asked.

* * *

Outside in the car, Wesley and Angel compared findings. 'There's something wrong in that house,' Angel said. 'The mom wants to talk, but the dad won't let her. I'm going back tomorrow night.'

'Be careful'

'I always am.'

'Be especially careful.' Wesley held up a vial of the yellow slime he had found on the foundations of the building. Angel took it off him, examining the substance carefully: 'Plankticine'

'I found it all around the outside of the house.'

'So now we know,' the vampire said.

'Someone in that house is possessed by a demon.'


	22. I've Got You Under My Skin: Part Two

The two men had returned to the office and filled in Doyle and Cordelia on everything that had happened. Cordelia had been tasked with doing a background check on the family, to see if their story about Akron checked out. She thanked the person on the other end of the phone and placed the receiver back in its cradle. 'So, mama's telling the truth about Akron,' she said. 'And before that it was Miami and before that Baton Rouge, all within the last three years.'

'They keep moving, but they can't seem to shake the dark cloud.' The vampire surmised.

'Like it was fitted with chin straps. Every place they go there's reports of weird disturbances and - yuck! Animal deaths. In Akron, a friend of the family went missing, he's still missing!' They all looked at each other in dismay. Cordelia picked up the vial of yellow slime and looked at it admiringly. 'what is this stuff, anyway? It's kinda pretty.'

'It's the bodily excretions of an ethros demon,' Wesley informed her.

She put it down quickly, her face wrinkling in disgust. 'Right, no one could have said 'demon pooh' before I picked it up?'

'So someone in that family has got a demon inside them,' Doyle interrupted, 'and a pretty violent one at that, I'm thinking.' Wesley threw a half glance at Doyle, when he heard his words, a very slight frown crossing his face, but none of the others noticed.

'Yes ethros demons do tend towards the mass murder side of thing. Lizzie Borden was said to be possessed with one.' The ex watcher informed them, still eyeing Doyle carefully in his peripheral vision. Wesley hadn't forgotten what he thought he saw back at the flower mart and was unsure of what it meant or what to do about it. Doyle seemed trustworthy enough, he certainly didn't appear to be a Lizzie Borden style killer; he would certainly never hurt Cordelia, of that much the British man was sure. But Doyle was not what he was pretending to be and Wesley could not forget his years of watcher training so easily.

'So there's a squatter in someone's head,' Cordelia summed up. 'What are we going to do about it?'

'Evict it,' Angel answered.

'Exorcism?' Wesley was intrigued. 'We'd have to find a priest…'

'Look, bud, the Catholic church doesn't go in for that sort of thing anymore,' Doyle interrupted again. 'And the ones that do…' He pulled a face. 'They're not exorcising real demons, if you know what I mean, more like torturing young delinquents or perfectly innocent gay kids. It's not an area we want to get involved with.'

'So what do you suggest, we do it ourselves?'

Doyle shrugged, 'we got more expertise than some phoney priest who's seen the exorcist one too many times.'

'Right,' Angel decided, 'Doyle and Cordy, you're in charge of researching exorcisms and getting the stuff we need. Wesley you look up the ethros, see what we do with it once it's out.'

'What about you?' Cordelia asked.

'I'm going to get the demon to reveal itself.'

'How?'

Wesley coughed a little to draw attention to himself. 'I believe a little psylis eucalypsis powder ingested by the host should..'

'What? Make him go all grrr and make his head spin around?'

'Essentially, yes.'

'OK then,' said Angel. 'How do I get them to eat eucalypsis powder?'

* * *

He arrived at 1256 Acacia Avenue, the next evening, bearing brownies.

* * *

The meal was over. Paige had been as effusive in her gratitude as she had been the night before and Angel, playing the role of normal person turned hero, had been all charm as a dinner guest. If he had been being himself he would have been awkward and glowery and monosyllabic in such a situation, but pretending to be someone else was much easier. Paige's husband, Seth, on the other hand had glowered as hard as Angel ever could. He was not happy at this intrusion into his home.

Paige cleared the plates. 'I guess we're ready for your brownies, Angel,' she smiled. Everyone in the family took one, Angel held back. Ryan's little sister took one bite and then hid it under her napkin. Paige took one bite and similarly put it back down: 'what's your secret, Angel?'

'Well I use chocolate … which is why they're brown … which is why they're called ... brownies.'

Seth took a bite, Angel watched him closely, he began to choke. Then the little girl, Stephanie, began to scream. But she wasn't watching her father, she was pointing at her brother who had begun to growl, his face turned demonic; lumpy and hideous.

'Oh God, Ryan what's wrong?' Paige was frantic.

But Angel was already up on his feet and examining what was happening to the boy. If he was surprised it was not Seth who was possessed he got over it immediately and got straight down to business.'Your son is possessed by a demon,' he told the frightened mother. 

'Ryan's bad, Ryan's always been bad.' Stephanie cried.

Angel tried to talk to Paige, to reassure her that her son was OK. 'What do you mean he's OK?' She demanded, hugging her son close to her, even as he growled and hissed.

'I had to get the demon to show himself.'

'You did this to him?'

'The demon was already there, I just used the brownies to ..'

'You put something in our food? You poisoned us?'

Seth suddenly stepped forward 'Paige it's OK.'

'He did this to Ryan!'

'We both know that's not true. Something hasn't been right for a long time now.' He turned to Angel 'You say you can help my son?' Angel nodded. 'What do you need?' Seth asked.

'A phone.'

...

He rang the office and spoke to Wesley 'I've found the demon it's in the boy. How are you guys doing with the research?'

'Cordelia and Doyle have found out exactly what an exorcism will entail, they've gone to a church. I still don't know how to contain the ethros though.'

'I need you to put together a binding powder, everything you need is in the pantry. We can hold the boy in place til we know what to do with the evicted demon.' He put the phone down and spoke to Seth: 'How's she doing?' he nodded towards Paige who was sat on the sofa cradling Ryan, looking shell shocked.

'This has been going on for so long,' Seth told him. 'For three years, it's all I've been able to do to hold the family together.'

'This won't be easy.'

'But you can make it stop?'

'I can. Is there someone you can ring to come and stay with Stephanie?' Seth nodded. 'Good, get them, you three are coming with me.'

* * *

He took them back to the office. Wesley met them at the elevator, taking Ryan off Paige and carrying him over to Angel's bed. He then took out the binding powder and began to sprinkle it in a circle on the bedroom floor, so that Ryan sat in the middle of it.

'What is he doing?' Paige asked.

'That powder will keep the demon contained until we're able to force it out of your son. This is really important, Paige,' Angel told her: 'You must not cross that circle, no matter what. The demon is exposed and angry and will be looking to do some damage. No matter what he says you mustn't go to him, that's not Ryan in there right now.'

'What are you waiting for?' she cried, 'help him now.'

'Two of my assistants are off getting the supplies we need for an exorcism, they'll be back soon and then we'll see what we can do for your son.'

Wesley, having finished drawing the binding circle, returned to his books, still looking for a way to contain the exorcised demon.

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle stood outside the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels, the closest Catholic church to their office, they both looked slightly intimidated by it.

'I hate these places,' Doyle told Cordelia. 'I always did, I was over the whole Jesus thing by the time I took my first communion, and you do that when you're eight. Made the whole growing up in Ireland thing a real barrel of laughs, y'know?'

'There were over 30 churches in Sunnydale, only one Starbucks, but 30 churches.' Cordelia told him. He looked at her. 'Evil from the hellmouth made people extra careful with praying,' she explained.

'Yeah? you got any stories of possessions, from the old hellmouth days, but, y'know, a story with a happy ending?'

'No… oh wait, yeah,' Doyle raised his eyebrows at her, the hellmouth never seemed to disappoint. 'Buffy's watcher, not Wesley, her old one, Giles, used to summon this demon when he was younger, Eyghon. Eyghon possesses dead or unconscious people and he was killing off all Giles' friends from the old days. Buffy caught a demon possessed dead guy and locked him in the book cage, but he got out and when she attacked him he jumped into the body of Miss Calendar, my computer science teacher.' She suddenly lowered her voice to a hushed whisper. 'That's the teacher that Angel killed, she was Giles' girlfriend.' Doyle whistled softly. 'So the demon was in Miss Calendar and we had to try and work out a way of saving her that didn't include chopping her head off. In the end we got Eyghon to jump into Angel and the demon inside Angel killed Eyghon. That was before he was evil …' she finished.

'So Angel has experience with this sort of thing?' Doyle asked hopefully.

'Well, if we can trick the ethros into jumping into Angel we'll be OK, otherwise he's as clueless as the rest of us.'

'Oh. Shall we get this over with?' He took a deep breath as he put his foot on the first step outside the church, he wasn't lying when he said he hated these places. And they had always made him uncomfortable, he didn't know if that was the demon in him or if it was just the manifestation of a guilty conscience. His Catholic education had been big on the notion of guilt.

...

Inside, they found a nun praying near the front of the church. Doyle hung back, but Cordelia, never one for social niceties, marched straight up to her and interrupted her prayers. 'Excuse me, sister?' The nun looked up. 'Hi' Cordelia said, big bright smile in place. The nun smiled back at her, no one could ever resist the intensity of Cordelia's beam, not even the clergy, and Doyle shuffled closer to the two women, feeling protected by Cordelia's charm. 'We were just wondering..' she motioned to herself and Doyle, 'if we were planning on exorcising an ethros demon, would we be able to just grab ourselves some holy water? It's much cheaper getting it here than buying it in a magic shop. Plus you know it's the real deal.'

The nun had turned to look at Doyle when Cordelia had gestured towards him and she gave him a deep, penetrating stare, not even taking her eyes off him as Cordelia continued to talk. He fidgeted under her gaze. He had always hated the way the priests had looked at him back in Ireland. Back then he had just assumed it was judgement; he was the kid with no father and an unmarried mother, judgement had been part and parcel of their life. But once he had found out about his demon half he couldn't help but wonder if their judgement hadn't been because they could see something in him that he hadn't been aware of: that they could see the demon. After all, he was hardly the only bastard child in Ireland, but he might well have been the only demon half breed.

'You would come into this place?' The nun asked him incredulously.

Cordelia looked confused. 'What's wrong?' she rounded on Doyle 'You're not _drunk_ are you?' she hissed.

'Come on Cordy, let's go, we're wastin' our time here.'

'No we need the holy water.' She turned back to the nun. 'I know he's dressed badly, but that shouldn't be, like, an affront to God or anything. Please. There's someone we know of who is possessed by a big, evil demon and we need to cast it out. Can we take some holy water?'

'The font is at the back my child,' the nun told Cordelia, and Cordelia happily headed towards it to fill up some vials. ' _You_ are trying to cast out a demon?' the nun asked Doyle. He looked at her, discomfort written all over his face. 'I probably won't be doin' the actual castin', but I can still help, yeah?'

'One such as yourself cannot hope to drive evil out of the human body,' she told him. 'It will take a pure soul to do such a thing, you are tainted by the very thing you hope to vanquish.'

This was exactly what Doyle had always feared was true, the reason he had pushed away Harri and started drinking and gambling and becoming a thorough lowlife, lost in the demon underworld. He had always feared that his demon half tainted his human soul, making him unworthy of the human world. So he had lost his job and his wife and made every effort to become exactly the sort of creature a demon half breed should be. Now the nun was confirming his deepest dread. She was looking towards Cordelia, who was happily filling vial after vial with holy water. 'I hope that poor child has the strength to do what must be done.'

'Cordelia, won't be doin' the exorcism! I would never let her put herself in that much danger.'

'You care for her? But she doesn't know what you are. That child does not belong in your world. You put her in danger just being by her side.'

Cordelia had finished what she was doing and she looked around for Doyle, surprised that he had not followed her. 'I'm done, let's go. Time's a wasting.'

...

It was with great relief that Doyle left the nun and the church behind, though her words still weighed heavy on his heart. As they walked through the streets, on their way back to the office, it became clear that Cordelia was thinking about that too. 'Hey, Doyle? How come that nun didn't like you?'

'I dunno, princess,' he lied. 'Maybe she just didn' like my face.'

Cordelia laughed. 'Or your shirt,' she suggested. 'It is unusually hideous, even by your standards.' Doyle smiled, Cordelia slipped her arm through his and pressed herself as close to him as she could. 'Well, fashion sense aside, she was wrong, Doyle,' she told him.

'Yeah?'

'Yeah, you're a good man, even if you are an often drunk and badly dressed one, and me and Angel know we can always count on you, no matter what.'

'Thanks, Princess,' he said to her, but his smile was still a little sad. Cordelia might not so readily believe in his goodness when she eventually found out that rather than being a good man, or even just a drunk one, he wasn't really a man at all. The nun had said he put Cordelia in danger just by being with her, he hoped fervently that this wasn't true.


	23. I've Got You Under My Skin: Part Three

Paige was hovering by the bedroom door, watching over Ryan. The little boy was crying softly, telling his mom he was cold, he was scared. 'This is just too cruel' wept his mother.

'Paige, come away' Angel told her. Reluctantly, she moved back to the table and began fiddling with some of Ryan's toys, which she had insisted on bringing along as comfort for him.

'Can't I at least take him his toys?' she asked the men in the room. Her husband shook his head at her.

Seth was talking to Angel about the previous years, and everything they had been through. 'When we were in Ohio we had a friend, the kids called him 'Uncle Frank' he died in a fire.'

Paige's head snapped up 'That wasn't Ryan! It was an accident, it wasn't Ryan.'

Seth ignored her protests and continued to talk to the vampire. 'It's the same story everywhere we go, disappearances, deaths, Neighbours pets turning up mutilated. We kept trying to outrun it, but it followed along wherever we went.' Angel nodded in understanding.

...

Wesley called his boss over, from where he was doing his research, and the two of them began to talk quietly. 'Which of us is going to perform the exorcism?' Wesley wanted to know.

'I'll do it,' Angel said immediately.

'Angel, I don't believe that will be possible. I think it will have to be me.'

'Exorcism requires strength …'

'I like to think I have what it takes.'

'Mental strength,' the vampire clarified. 'Resistance, the demon will fight back, whoever performs the ritual will have to be able to block him out.'

'I have resistance.'

'You don't even have sales resistance! How many thigh masters do you own?'

'The second one was free with buns of steel.'

'It will have to be me'

'Doyle? Or Cordelia?'

'They're Latin won't be up to the task,' Angel replied. 'We're the only ones with the language skills to do it, and I'm the one with the strength to do it.' He turned and began to walk back to the family.

'Hey Angel, think fast.' Angel caught the object Wesley threw at him and then gasped in pain. The crucifix burnt his hand and his skin began to smoke, He dropped it quickly. 'That was vulgar,' he said.

'But I believe I made my point. I will perform the ritual when Doyle and Cordelia return with the supplies.'

'Fine, but I'll be right there with you.'

...

'Paige!' Seth's voice cut through the two men's conversation. She had got up from the table again and returned to the door to watch her son. Angel moved over towards her 'Paige' he said gently 'come away, now'.

'Mommy?' Ryan cried out to her from the bed. 'I can't see, there's something wrong with my eyes. Why won't you help me?'

'Paige, come away from him.'

'Mommy I'm frightened, where are you?'

With a sob, Paige tore herself away from Angels grip and ran into the bedroom.

'Paige No!'

As she crossed the yellow circle of binding powder, the door slammed shut behind her and locked itself.

Angel, Wesley and Seth hammered on the door, trying desperately to get through. Inside the room, Paige climbed onto the bed and sat beside Ryan. 'I'm here sweetie' she whispered. 'Mommy's right here for you.' Ryan stroked her face and then all of a sudden gripped her throat beginning to choke her.

The men shoved against the locked door, but the demon was strong and even Angel's vampire strength was not enough to budge it. Inside the room, Paige was dying, having the life choked out of her by her own son. She tried to break the grasp he had on her throat but she was too weak, tears ran down her face as she slowly turned purple.

Then, just as suddenly, the door gave way, the men tumbled into the room and the demon released Paige. Seth swept her up in his arms and bundled her out of the room. Angel went to fetch her some water, Wesley re poured the binding powder over the place where Paige had broken the circle.

In amidst all this, Doyle and Cordelia returned from the church. 'What's going on?'

* * *

As Paige and Seth sat with Angel; Wesley, Doyle and Cordelia had a brief discussion, catching each other up on events. 'Did you get the holy water?' Wesley asked.

'Yes, the nun wasn't too happy with Doyle though.'

'Why, what did he do?' Doyle shuffled his feet uncomfortably at Wesley's question.

'We don't know! My current working theory is that his shirt is so offensive that it made the baby Jesus cry.'

'I did once hear that our Lord and saviour did take a particular dislike to paisley,' Doyle agreed, hoping to head them off from this uncomfortable subject. Cordelia laughed. Wesley didn't though, he found it very interesting that a holy person would react badly to Doyle, but he didn't say anything. Instead he told them that it had been decided that he would perform the exorcism, unless one of them had previously unmentioned Latin speaking skills. The two shook their heads. 'Oz read the Latin when we re ensouled Angel,' Cordelia said. 'I waved the stinky herbs around.'

Angel wandered over to his three employees. 'Any luck with researching the ethros?' he asked Wesley. Wesley nodded, though he didn't look like the luck he had had was good. 'There are plenty of accounts of those who are possessed by an ethros surviving the exorcism, but far fewer accounts where the exorcist, themselves, survived. An ethros demon, once expelled, will lodge itself in the nearest warm body. The force of which is so great that the new host rarely survives.'

'Nearest warm body, huh?' said Cordelia. 'That rules out a rerun of the Eyghon plan.' She raised her eyebrows at Doyle, and he nodded along, understanding the significance.

'I did find one thing,' Wesley continued. 'An ethros box, if you have one of these present during the exorcism then the expelled ethros will head straight for it. The box will then contain the demon for a thousand years.'

'That ought to do it! Can we make ourselves one of these box thingies?' Cordelia asked.

Wesley turned the book around and showed it to the others. 'An ethros box is made of 600 types of virgin wood and crafted together by blind Tibetan monks.'

Cordelia thought for a moment '...nope, don't know any.'

'So where will we get an ethros box at this time of night?' asked Angel.

'My guy in Korea Town,' suggested Doyle. 'Does stuff like this all the time, he might have one.'

'OK, Doyle, Cordelia, you go get the box. Wesley you prepare for the exorcism. I'll stay with the family.' And they bustled off to complete their assigned tasks.

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle arrived at the magic shop and were browsing various handcrafted wooden boxes, when the proprietor approached them.

'Blessed be.'

'Uhuh - I need an ethros box,' Cordelia was all business.

'A lady who knows what she wants. Commendable.'

'Yes. I'm great.' Doyle chuckled at her words, but she wasn't to be distracted. 'Just pop one in a bag and we're out of here.'

'I don't have an ethros box,' the proprietor said.

'You don't have one?' Doyle was dismayed, if this guy didn't have one no one would. They'd have to put a special order in to Tibet and how long would that take?

'What's that?' Cordelia pointed at a box, similar to the picture in Wesley's book, sitting on a shelf behind the counter.

'The lady has a good eye.' The man said to Doyle, then, speaking to Cordelia, 'that's a shorshack box.'

'What's the dif?'

'About twenty dollars and it's not available in the mahogany finish.'

'It looks the same. Blind Tibetan monks?'

'Mute Chinese Nuns. Now that's craftsmanship.'

'Look we have an ethros demon and we need somewhere to put it, will this box work?' Cordelia was becoming impatient. The man dissembled a little. 'It should do. It might be a bit tight across the shoulders, your average shorshack is smaller than an ethros. But it should hold it.'

'Well how big can the demon be?' Cordelia asked Doyle 'It's inside a little bitty boy.'

'I'm not sure it works like that, Princess.' Doyle was uncertain, but Cordelia wasn't 'We'll take it,' she decided with a swift nod of her head.

'Excellent choice. Would you like it gift wrapped?'

Cordelia snorted, handed over the money, grabbed the box and marched out of the shop; Doyle trailing behind her at her heels.

* * *

They returned to Angel's apartment, where Wesley had set everything up for the exorcism. The British man and the vampire went into the bedroom whilst Doyle and Cordelia stood in the doorway, holding open the shorshack box ready to catch the ethros.

Wesley clutched his cross and forced it into the face of the boy, anointing him with holy water as he began to speak. Ryan cried out as the water hit him.

'Ominis spiritus in munde. In nomine dei. Ominis spir..'

'Your Latin sucks,' the demon growled at him.

Wesley threw more water at him. 'I know your tricks, you won't deter me from what must be done.'

'You! Do something, what makes you think you can do anything? You couldn't even watch.'

Wesley ignored the demon and began chanting even louder. 'In odoram suavitatis...'

'Everyone knows you got fired,' the demon continued, 'because you can't do anything right. Nothing you do is ever going to make him proud of you.'

'I know what you're doing, you're skimming the surface of my mind. Its impressive, but merely a parlour trick. Here's one for you,' he thrust the cross in the demon's face. 'How many crosses am I holding up? Ominis spiritus in munde. In nomine dei.'

The demon's voice changed, becoming Wesley's uptight, clipped British tones: 'all those hours locked under the stairs and still not good enough for daddy. Not good enough for the council.'

'Ominus spiritus - um, that is…' Wesley was blinking at his book, losing his place under the onslaught of the demon exposing his insecurities. The demon switched back to his own voice. 'What makes you think they want you here? What makes you think these people want you more than anyone else did?'

'Because I invited him here' Angel spoke up in Wesley defence.

But that just made the ethros laugh in derision. 'Than you're stupider than he is, go on Wesley tell him why he's a fool to trust you.' But Wesley had found his place and resumed his chanting. 'Tell him how you're planning to kill him.'

Wesley stopped and turned,slowly, to look at Angel. 'That's not true.'

The demon laughed 'He's more afraid of you than he is of me!'

'I'll show you fear!' Wesley lunged at the boy with his cross, but the demon grabbed a hold of it and plunged it straight into Wesley's neck. Angel grabbed hold of his friend and dragged him back outside the room, the demon sat on the bed and laughed and laughed.

* * *

The adults sat back around the table. Cordelia was cleaning Wesley's wound and placing a bandage on it whilst he apologised for what had gone down. 'I let my guard down, it won't happen again.'

'You're not going back in there.'

'I have to, you can't do it, Angel. Doyle?' He turned to the third man. Doyle shook his head miserably. Not only was his Latin woefully under prepared for the job but the nun had well and truly frightened him off from even trying. According to the Catholic Church, he was tainted with evil and couldn't save the boy. Even that might not have been enough to deter him from trying, but seeing the demon skim Wesley's mind and repeat his secrets out loud made Doyle determined not to go anywhere near the boy. He concealed too much from his friends to have his worst fears broadcast to a room full of people.

'What about my son?' Seth asked, the men looked at each other not knowing what to tell him. As they looked at each other, hopelessly, the table began to shudder and shake, as if the earth was quaking beneath it. The marbles in Ryan's toy bag rolled themselves out onto the table. They stopped just short of falling off the edge and then, before their very eyes, arranged themselves into a pattern. It spelled out just two words: 'save me'.

'Angel, we have no choice' Wesley told him.

...  


_'I felt your heart beat.'_

...

The door to the bedroom burst open and Buffy's heartbroken voice floated out to the people at the table. _'How am I supposed to go on with my life, knowing what we had? What we could have had?'_ Angel glared in the demon's direction; his employees tensed, understanding that a line had been crossed. The demon laughed. 'You broke her heart Angelus. You left her to avoid hurting her ever again, to protect her from yourself and the first thing you do is break her heart. You keep making the decisions for her, keep protecting her, keep hurting her. The way he keeps making decisions for us, to protect us. The way he's going to let you hurt me, aren't you daddy?'

Angel grabbed the tea towel and wrapped it around his hand, then he grabbed the cross and marched into the room. He thrust the cross in the demon's face: 'Abrenuntias Satanae'. Behind him Doyle and Cordelia scuffled over to get the box ready. 'Et omnibus operibus eus. Omnibus Pompus eus.' His hand was smoking where he held the cross, but still he continued. 'Exorcie te. Omnis spiritus in munde. Adaperiae.' His face vamped out. 'Now get the hell out!'

Ryan began to shake and tremble. A glowing white light seemed to emanate from his body as he convulsed on the bed. The light collected in one place and then zoomed towards the shorshack box. Ryan seemed to crumple up and fall still. Paige ran to him and embraced him. Angel turned around. Cordelia and Doyle stood in the doorway looking shocked, the shorshack box destroyed to tatters in their hands. The ethros demon was gone.


	24. I've Got You Under My Skin: Part Four

Doyle drove the family back home. It was an awkward journey. Paige was in the back seat with Ryan, she had him wrapped in a blanket and was cuddling him, crying silently. Doyle wasn't sure what her tears signified, whether they were of relief or trauma. Seth sat up front with him. But neither man spoke, both were wrapped up in their own thoughts. For Doyle, a lot of his thoughts centred on the family themselves, wondering how they would move forward from this. Everything was going to be OK now, in theory, but the night's events had opened up a whole new world to them that they might prefer to have left hidden. They now lived with the knowledge that demons were real, that the things that went bump in the night, the monsters under the bed, were really out there and there was precious little they could do to guard against it.

They also had to face up to the fact that the weird occurrences they had been running from had been down to Ryan. Not his fault, of course, a little boy could not be held responsible for what he did whilst under the thrall of an ancient and powerful demon. But the fact remained that it was Ryan's hands that had mutilated all those beloved pets, that had struck the match that had burned down Uncle Frank's house, that had committed murder. Would Ryan remember? Would the trauma of what he had been through mark him forever? The family was going to have to try and navigate this minefield; help their son move on without the benefit of professional help; help themselves move on from three strained, terrifying years; allow themselves to relax now the dark cloud was lifted.

Doyle wondered if they would be able to do that, or if they would simply choose to forget what they had seen, what they had learned. People did that, he knew, selective memory, convenient amnesia. Cordelia herself, had told him of the multiple weird things she witnessed in her short life that she had explained away or put to one side before she was forced to accept the truth. Perhaps this family would join the good citizens of Sunnydale in repressing everything that did not quite compute.

His other thoughts were for himself, self pitying ones he knew, but ones he couldn't help having. He was jealous, though he was loathe to admit it. Jealous of Ryan and his family. Jealous that there was a spell for Ryan to make the monster go away, drive the demon out and leave the boy whole and human once more, able to live a normal life, given the luxury to forget, whether he chose to or not. There was nothing like that out there for Doyle. He had to live with what he was and he couldn't excuse the many things he'd done in his life that he was ashamed of as being the influence of the demon. He _was_ the demon, every action was his own. A part of him was so envious of this family; of having each other, of being able to retreat back into normalcy, that he almost felt sick. And then he felt guilt for feeling that way. So there was nothing he could bring himself to say to the father, and Seth was lost in his own thoughts and, like Paige's tears, Doyle could not parse out what they would mean. It was with great relief that they reached 1256 Acacia Avenue and Doyle was able to see them into their home and head back off.

* * *

Meanwhile, Wesley was scouring the apartment and office, looking for signs of their missing ethros demon. He crawled around on his hands and knees using a tongue depressor to scrape up any stray bits of plankticine he found. 'It clearly came up through the elevator shaft', he informed Cordelia and Angel.

'So what, is it loose somewhere up here?' Cordelia glanced around the office in concern, as if she expected to see a fully grown ethros demon lurking under her desk.

'No it's long gone by now.' Angel was certain

'And good riddance to it!' Cordelia was pleased, she hoped this was the end of it and she could get on with tidying up the destruction the ethros had caused when it had fled. 'No' Angel corrected her 'not good riddance, it'll possess again.' Cordelia sighed deeply, their night was not over.

'Perhaps we shouldn't have been so hasty in sending the Andersons back home,' Wesley said from his position on the floor, where he was still scraping away with his tongue depressor. 'It might try and possess the boy again.'

'I don't think so, not right away.' Angel was dubious.

'What are you thinking?'

'Well it will have had to expel a lot of energy to escape like this.'

'You're thinking it took on corporeal form?' Wesley stopped scraping and knelt up, a frown playing on his handsome face as he considered this development.

'That's my guess. It can only absorb the elements it needs if it manifests itself physically. Which means, if we can find it in time, we can kill it. He'll be looking for a hostile environment - somewhere damp. Probably returning to primordial volcanic basalt for regeneration.'

'Huh?' Cordelia was beyond confused.

'Sea caves!' Wesley enlightened her.

'Why didn't he just say that?'

'Cordelia, ring Doyle tell him to get the car back here, fast.'

* * *

Doyle wasn't far from the office when his cell phone began to ring. 'Yello? … Hey Cordy!' He listened to her explanations 'uhuh … uhuh, I'll be there in a minute.' He snapped his phone shut and within a few minutes he was pulling up outside the office. Angel and Wesley stood, already waiting, on the sidewalk, weapons grasped in their hands. They jumped in over the doors and Doyle pulled back off again, he had barely stopped.

'What weapon did'y' bring me?' he asked

'Fighting axe.'

'Nice ...you?'

'Broad sword'

'Good choice.'

* * *

Inside the office, Cordelia watched them speed off, tyres squealing. She began to put the room back in order, righting all the furniture that the demon had upended when it escaped. She sighed. She had another commercial to film in a couple of days, which was great, but her two lives weren't necessarily compatible. These all nighters fighting demons led to serious eyebags, and she was the 'Stain Be Gone' girl now, she had to look her best. But even if this modest success led to bigger and better things, she wasn't sure that she would be a hundred percent happy to leave her monster hunting days behind her. She was a child of the hellmouth after all, there was so much of her work at Angel Investigations that just felt _right_ in a way that life on set didn't. Or maybe it was her friends that made it feel right.

She finished tidying and sat down to wait for their return. She wasn't really worried: Angel could handle himself and the other two were just backup, but she still didn't want to leave without making sure Doyle was OK. And Angel and Wesley, of course. Besides, they might need her to patch them up when they got back, injury was always a possibility and none of them were any great shakes at first aid.

She picked up one of Angel's pretentious books, the one he'd been reading earlier that night before the vision, and flicked through it. A picture of Buffy fell out and onto the ground. She snorted … figures.

* * *

The three men headed down into the sea caves, plankticine glistened on the walls, so they knew they were close. Wesley had serious things on his mind: 'Angel, before we go any further, I just wanted to reassure you, inasmuch as we'll be fighting side by side, that what the demon said before …'

'I know you're not planning to kill me,' Angel interrupted. 'But you're willing to, and that's good. Now come on.' The vampire strode ahead, leading the way down into the caves. Wesley stood still, a look of confusion on his face, like he didn't know how to process Angel's words. Doyle clapped him on the shoulder. 'He loves it when his friends promise to kill 'im,' the Irishman told the watcher. 'It's like a prerequisite to joinin' the Angel club: must be willin' to behead your best friend in the event of him turning evil.' He laughed a little darkly after that. 'As if any of us would get the chance. If what Cordy says is true, Angelus will have killed us all before we've even noticed he's turned. But she has a hot tip on spotting it early: leather pants.' Wesley look even more confused. 'If Angel's wearing leather pants then he's evil and you get the hell outta there,' Doyle explained. 'Now come on', and he gently pushed the British man on wards towards their destination.

...

The tunnels twisted onward, but eventually they found a place where the wall positively dripped with the shining yellow goo that denoted the presence of the ethros, and as they turned a corner there he was.

'You!' The ethros recognised them immediately.

'You didn't think this was over did you?' Angel twirled his sword in his hand, Doyle hefted his axe, ready. Wesley, also wielding an axe, wasn't ready to fight though, he had more to say to this demon. 'You great - putrescent - bully! Pick on an innocent child? You think you're impressive?'

'I am ethros,' the demon stated simply. 'I have corrupted the souls of men since before they had language to name me.'

'Well you can chalk this one down as a big failure!' Wesley crowed 'you didn't get this boy's soul.'

The demon laughed, a dark, unsettling laugh. 'What soul?'

* * *

Back in Acacia Avenue, the Anderson children were settling down to have their nighttime hot chocolate. Ryan noticed that Stephanie had two more marshmallows than he had. Less than impressed, he turned to his mother in complaint. Paige just smiled and brushed it off; normal kid stuff, arguing over marshmallows in hot chocolate. This is what family life was supposed to be like. She didn't notice the glare that Ryan turned on his little sister, this might be no big deal to Paige, but it was to him and he blamed Stephanie.

A while later, chocolate drunk, the children were tucked up in their beds. For the first time in three years, Seth did not padlock his children's bedroom doors shut. Ryan was cured, Stephanie was safe.

* * *

'Do you know what the most frightening thing in the world is?' the ethros asked the three men. They gripped their weapons tightly, but they shuffled with uncertainty, meeting each other's eyes and then looking away, wary of what they were about to hear. 'Nothing,' the demon told them. 'No conscience, no fear, no humanity. Just a dark void. I couldn't control him. I never even manifested until you brought me forth. I just sat inside him and watched as he destroyed everything around him. Not from any belief in evil, not for any reason at all.'

'The marbles,' Angel realised, 'that was you?'

'That boy's mind was the blackest hell I've ever known. I sought to end his life even at the cost of my own.'

'You walked him in front of the car?'

'I had given up hope. I know you bring death, I do not fear it. The only thing I have ever feared is in it that house.'

Angel swung his sword. It was a clean kill, they had no time for a fight.

* * *

Paige and Seth were asleep, their first nights peaceful sleep in three years. Ryan got out of his bed, freed from the bolts and chains that had held him prisoner in all the years before. He walked through the house and into his parents room. Seth's matches lay on the bedside table next to his pack of cigarettes. Ryan took them. He wedged their door shut, went to the living room and took the phone off the hook. He went through into the adjoining car port and picked up a can of gasoline. Then he walked back into the house and down the hallway to where Stephanie slept. He stepped into her room and poured the gasoline in a big circle around her bed.

His parents were awake by now - and knew something was badly wrong. He could hear them hammering on the door, but he knew they couldn't get out. Stephanie woke up just as he struck the match, she began to scream.

Seth and Paige managed to break down their door and appeared in the hallway behind him. Too late, they stared in horror as they saw Stephanie trapped within the circle of flames.

Out of nowhere, Angel crashed through the girl's bedroom window, leapt through the flames and picked her up. Crossing back through the burning barrier, Stephanie in his arms, he evacuated the house the way he had come.

Doyle and Wesley ran through the house to find the rest of the family in the doorway to Stephanie's room. As Angel and the girl left through the window, Wesley ushered the parents out of the way of the flames, 'Come on GO GO,' he yelled. Doyle entered the room, raising his arms to shield himself from that heat of the fire, and grabbed the boy. The boy made to resist, refusing to leave now that his plan had gone awry. Hating that he had to do it, Doyle went demon face, using his extra strength to subdue the struggling, fighting child, and carried him bodily out of the room.

He remembered having to restrain tantrumming children as part of his old life, remembered the almost inhuman strength they would exhibit when they got upset, the way it could take two fully grown male teachers to remove even the tiniest child from the classroom when they got this way. Luckily, he also remembered the frenetic way their limbs would flail as they fought, and he was careful to make sure his face was never in reach of Ryan's struggling hands. He could not risk dropping him over an unexpected blow to the nose, whilst the house was on fire. Away from the heat and the smoke, he morphed back into his human face.

Outside, Paige and Seth were embracing Stephanie. Angel was making a phone call. Doyle and Wesley contained the boy between them until the police arrived.

* * *

It was Kate who came, with a squad car. She was not impressed at having to deal with Angel, she had still not forgiven him for Penn, still not forgiven him for being a vampire. But she was professional enough to be there for a family in need. Ryan was taken away for psychiatric evaluation and the rest of the family were left to rebuild their lives together. The three men went home, having secured neither a victory or a defeat. At least they had saved the life of the little girl even if they could not save the soul of her brother.

* * *

Cordelia was waiting for them when they got back to the office. She threw up her hands in horror when she saw the soot and sweat stained state they were in, but they reassured her none of them were seriously physically harmed. Nevertheless she bustled around, cleaning the worst of the soot off them so she could see any burns they'd acquired and then rubbed aloe vera on their affected skin. She then forced aspirin on Wesley and Doyle, before leaving for the evening.

* * *

Once Wesley had gone home, as well, the two demons sat at Angel's table drinking scotch. It had been a hard case for both of them, Angel was mourning the fact that he had been unable to save Ryan from himself.

'But maybe the vision was never about saving Ryan,' Doyle reasoned with him. 'Maybe it was saving the rest of them, maybe even saving the ethros demon. And y' did all that.'

'I made some decisions for that family when I rang Kate,' the vampire worried: 'decisions that maybe weren't mine to make. The ethros was right, I did that to Buffy too … too many times … and I always ended up hurting her. Maybe I've just hurt Ryan and his family needlessly as well.'

'Nah, man. Ryan was a lost cause from the moment he was born.'

'Do you really think that's true?' Angel wanted to know. 'Do you really think there are people that can't be saved? People where there is nothing _to_ save?'

Doyle shifted in his seat and cleared his throat a couple of times before answering. 'I don't know, man… this evening, the nun we met said to me … she said I couldn't save a person from evil… because I was tainted by it. She looked at me and all she saw was the demon, and there's nothin' I can do to change that.'

'You don't know she was right,' Angel said. 'Just because she's a nun doesn't mean she knows any more than anyone else.'

'Nope … but she knew what I was. Just by lookin'. Cordelia and Wesley can't do that and they've had plenty of experience with demons. So maybe she does know what she's talkin' about? Maybe I can't be saved … just like Ryan.'

'You are _nothing_ like Ryan.'

'Aren't I? He was a danger to anyone who came into contact with him … the nun said…' he twisted his mouth as he thought of the words she had said to him, 'she said I put Cordy in danger just by being with her.'

'That's not true.'

'Isn't it?' He waved his arm around to take in his surroundings. 'Then why am I hiding out at your place, too frightened to go home? Frightened of someone like Darin McNamara?'

'You had to talk to him .. to save Cordy … to find The Scourge.'

Doyle laughed, 'yeah, and a fat lot of good I got out of him about that.' He shook his head. 'I'll never regret saving Cordelia, no matter what, but the the thing of it is, I shouldn't even _know_ people like Darin McNamara.' He sighed deeply. 'I've let myself do some very stupid things, become a very dangerous person, because of the demon in me. But it isn't the demon that's at fault. It was me, all along. And now I'm in trouble, and that could get the people I care about in trouble as well. It's goin' to have to come to a head at some point, bud, I can't hide here forever.'

'So what are you going to do?'

Doyle shook his head… he didn't know.

* * *

Despite having saved the life of a little girl, and inadvertently rescuing an ethros demon from unceasing torment, there was little consolation to be found for the demon members of Angel Investigations as they went to sleep that night.


	25. The Prodigal: Part One

_Liam was hungover and could do with some sleep, but he watched the pretty maid fill up water from the well nevertheless. The bright sunshine hurt his eyes and he hung back in the shadows. 'Anna,' he whispered to her, 'come closer.'_

' _Sir, your father …'_

' _Will be at church by now, repenting of his sins as well he should. Come to me, Anna.'_

' _Master Liam, why do you stay in the shadows, are you not well?'_

_Liam was shoved roughly from behind and he tumbled out into the daylight. 'Aye he's not well,' roared his father. 'And I know the cause of it! Up late last night again were y'? Drinkin' and Whorin'? I smell the stink of it on you'_

' _And a Good Morning to you Father,' Liam replied, making a mocking bow in the older man's direction._

' _You're a disgrace!'_

' _If you say so, Father.'_

' _I do say so, I'm ashamed to call you my son. You'll never amount to a thing...'_

_His father's angry ranting was drowned out as the cobbles buckled and the Earth began to shake under Liam's feet._

...

Angel was being shaken, roughly. 'C'mon man, wake up! Wake up!' He sat bolt upright in bed, with a gasp, and then turned confused eyes on the person that had woken him. It was Doyle, not yet dressed, wearing only the boxers and t-shirt he'd gone to sleep in, which was a damn sight more than Angel had on under the covers.

'Doyle? What is it?'

'I had a vision, man, skanky looking demon attacking a whole load of commuters on a train.' Angel didn't move. 'Are you OK?' Doyle asked him, furrowing his brow at Angel's lack of response. 'You didn't look to be sleeping very well when I came in.'

'I was dreaming.'

'Uhuh - this wouldn't be another murder dream, would it?' The Irishman remembered only too clearly how much killing dreams affected his boss, and how much he enjoyed them.

'No, this one was a nightmare. I was dreaming about my father. You ever dream about yours?'

'I never met the guy,' Doyle replied, shrugging. 'It's hard to have a nightmare about a total stranger. But all my nightmares, the ones that don't involve public nudity at least, are about being stuck in demon face and not realising, and seeing everyone's reaction to me ... so I guess they're kind o' dreams about my dad. They used to involve Harri a lot, but now she's been replaced with Cordelia … and sometimes there's added public nudity, and I'm sad to say it's mine not hers.'

'That makes sense … not the naked part ... you still not told her about the whole half demon thing, yet?'

'Not for a lack o' tryin'! … Hey, Angel, man, aren't you gonna go kill this demon from my vision?'

'I'm not wearing any pants. In order for me to kill, you need to leave.'

'Consider it done, bud,' and the smaller man scurried back out of the bedroom to put his own clothes on leaving Angel to get dressed in privacy.

* * *

Kate walked onto the subway platform and collared one of her officers: 'what's up?'

'Crazy homeless guy, got on at Central Street Station, went nuts. attacked a whole load of passengers. One of them pulled the emergency brake. They're still pretty shook up.'

'They said it was a hostage situation?'

'Yeah.'

'But the guy got away?'

'We're still a little unclear on the details.'

Kate snorted in disbelief. 'Unclear? You have two dozen witnesses.'

'Yeah and they all say the same thing. The guy disappeared through the top vent whilst the train was still moving.'

'He climbed out of a moving train?'

'Witnesses say he was dragged out.'

She shook her head, she didn't have time for this nonsense. 'Get statements'. As she walked off to head down the line and find the scene of crime, she noticed one of Angel's friends stood on the platform, milling around, chatting up witnesses. It was the little, Irish one with the brown leather coat. At least the girl who was normally glued to his side wasn't with him, she could fool herself this was a coincidence, that his presence did not mean what she guessed it meant ...

* * *

She ran along the track, following the sounds of violence and, sure enough, her flashlight illuminated the image of the vampire detective beating on a creature. Just as she got there it fell still and slumped to the ground. 'I guess I don't have to worry about reading him his rights...It's not a person, is it?'

Angel looked round when he heard her voice, and then looked uncomfortably between her and the dead body on the floor. 'No, it's a demon,' he admitted.

'Is it dead?'

'Yeah.'

'So they do ...die?'

'Yes Kate, they die.'

She laughed, but she didn't sound amused. 'Well this is just great, I've got you down here killing the suspect and your friend back on the platform tampering with witnesses. What am I supposed to tell my supervisor?'

'Don't tell him anything.'

'Right … like the time I kept quiet about Cordelia filing a false report about a missing truck?' Angel looked at her. 'Yeah I know all about that. Funniest thing, when the traffic photos of the stolen vehicle hit the precinct it turned out to be none other than Doyle doing the stealing. I didn't mention it as a favour to you. Not mentioning things seems to be becoming a big part of my job now … I'm gonna need something to put in my report.'

'Then you put in whatever you normally put in in cases like these.'

She laughed her mirthless laugh again. 'Angel, there are no 'normal cases like these'!'

'Sure there are, L.A? You've seen this type of stuff before Kate, you just didn't have a name for it. Nothing's changed.'

'Well it sure doesn't feel that way, I'm still having kind of a problem with all this other worldly stuff.'

'Actually demons aren't other worldly,' Angel told her. 'They were here ...first.' He tailed off as she glared at him.

They began to head back towards the station. 'What do I do about the body?' she asked. 'Do I call the coroner or hazardous materials?'

'Don't call anyone, my people will sort it out.'

'Doyle and Cordelia to the rescue?'

'Something like that, yeah.'

...  


They arrived back at the station just in time to see a delivery guy being interviewed by the police officer. He wasn't exactly a helpful witness, his description of the suspect being 'average weight, height and build, a regular Joe stink homeless guy.' But this was the passenger that the suspect had attacked and Kate wanted to talk to him. 'You the one that pulled the emergency brake?' she asked.

'Yeah, the guy came right at me.'

'Why?'

'He didn't say.'

'No. Why did you pull the emergency brake?'

The delivery guy frowned 'It was an emergency?' His intonation went up at the end, like he wasn't sure this was the correct answer. Kate, then spoke to her officer, telling him to circulate the description of the suspect and dismissing the delivery guy. In the meantime, Doyle had sidled up to Angel and Kate and was listening in to the conversation between the two cops and the witness. He was giving the delivery guy a funny look, like something in his mind didn't quite add up. But he didn't say what was bothering him.

Something else was bothering Angel. He had just spotted Trevor Lockley on the train platform and pointed him out to Kate. She approached her father 'Daddy! What are you doing here?'

'I was just in the neighbourhood.'

'You've been listening in on your old police scanner again, haven't you?'

'Well … there was nothing on T.V anyways.' He looked around the station, at the cops interviewing witnesses, at things being slowly put back to normal. 'Well, looks like you've got everything under control here… see you later, Katie.' He left. Angel walked up behind the detective. 'What was he doing?'

'I think he was checking up on me.' She actually sounded pleased, like this was the first proof she had in a long time that her father cared about her. 'He was making sure I was OK.'

'You sound surprised.'

She glanced back at him. 'No. You don't get to do that.'

'Do what?'

'You don't get to kill a demon in front of me and then act like everything's normal, like we're going to grab a cappuccino later.' She sighed. 'I know you're not a bad guy, Angel, for a vampire … but this isn't personal between us. It doesn't work that way.'

'How does it work?'

'I'm not sure it does.' She stalked off. Doyle threw his friend a commiserating glance. 'I always said women get a bit funny about the whole demon thing.' He said. 'At least when it comes to guys.' Angel nodded, though he didn't look comforted.

* * *

_Liam fought savagely in a brawl that had broken out at the tavern. It was one of the joys of his life. He was all too aware that one of the other joys of his life was waiting for him just across the taproom, should he choose to cross it. An incredibly beautiful, finely dressed woman was gazing at him as he tussled with the other men. She pulled the barmaid over and questioned her about the magnificent specimen that stood head and shoulders above the other men in the tavern, throwing punches around left and right. The barmaid was derisive, dismissive of him even; an Adonis who promised the earth at night and who slithered away in the morning. But nothing she said deterred this stranger's interest in him, indeed her smile and her eyes grew hungrier as she watched him._

_Done with the fight, Liam decided to approach the beautiful Lady, to prostrate himself at her feet in order to gain a night in her bed. As he walked towards her, one of the other men smashed a bottle over his head. He tumbled to the ground and all went black._

...

'Pay attention!' Cordelia was impatient. 'We need to decide what the code will be!'

'Code?' Angel didn't understand, he hadn't been listening if he was honest … he was dwelling on his dreams of the night before, remembering his life in Galway and what it was to be that reckless, young man, so in fear of his own father.

'For the security system we just installed.' She waved the brochure at him. ' _Hello!_ What have we just been talking about?

'I don't …'

'The installation guy said it should be something easy to remember … like my birthday.'

'I don't know your birthday'

'Tell me something you don't know, that I don't know! But after 11 months of typing it in, you, none of you, will have any excuse.'

Doyle frowned at her words, realising something. Wesley entered the office, a book in his hand. He showed the illustration to Angel and the vampire agreed that this was indeed the demon he had killed. The two men went into Angel's office to discuss the find and Cordelia tutted in annoyance, having failed to engage Angel's interest in her security system.

'I didn' know it was your birthday last month, darlin', ' Doyle said to Cordelia.

'Actually, it was the end of January', she told him. He looked at her in surprise that she hadn't brought it up. His Cordelia seemed like the kind of woman that would appreciate presents and fuss. 'I didn't mention it because Angel was having those killing dreams… and then I got pregnant .. there just didn't really seem like a good time to celebrate, you know?'

'Sure enough, sweetheart, but you only turn 19 once, yeah?'

'I've got plenty of other birthdays ahead of me, Doyle. I'm a big girl, I don't get upset because no one bought me cake and a card.' But her words were a little bit brittle, and Doyle felt that she probably had been sad, her first birthday away from home, passing by without mention. 'So, when's yours?' Cordelia asked him.

'What?'

'Your birthday? When is it?'

'Oh … it's at the end of May.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah … a while yet.' He never celebrated his birthday, not since his 21st. It was just a bitter anniversary for what he had become these days, marking both the beginning of his life and the end of it. Or the end as he had known it. School had just been about to give out for the summer when he had sneezed one day, thank God he'd been at home, and looked up to see the horror etched on Harri's face. It was the expression that haunted the nightmares he had told Angel about earlier, only now that look was transplanted onto Cordelia's own beautiful features. He had no idea how he had got through the last week of that semester, as his life crumbled around him, and once the break started he began drinking in earnest. He just didn't go back when school reopened in September, he never told them, he just never showed. He figured they must have got the message by now. And Harri had been gone by Thanksgiving. Demons didn't celebrate birthdays, he figured. But he was still disappointed to know that he had unwittingly let Cordelia down. These things mattered to humans, to _her_ , so it mattered to him.

Angel walked back into the office. 'I'm going to see Kate,' he told his two friends, 'she needs to know about this.' He headed off towards the sewer tunnels and Cordelia and Doyle looked at Wesley in confusion. 'What gives?'

'The demon Angel killed was a Kwaini,' Wesley explained. 'A peaceful creature, articulate and gentle. There's just no way it should have been capable of the power and strength that Angel described.'

'So there was something on that train that made it flip out?' Doyle surmised.

'Maybe it was just having a bad skanky rag day.' Cordelia suggested. Wesley tutted in annoyance but Doyle smiled at her, warmly. 'It's never that simple though, is it, darlin'?'

'If you had a vision, I guess not. So what do we do now?' she asked.

'Angel has put us on disposal duty, we need to get rid of the body,' Wesley told her.

'Get rid of the body? why do we get stuck with that? Our job sucks!' Loathe as they were to admit it, the two men had to agree.


	26. The Prodigal: Part Two

Angel arrived at the precinct and made straight for Kate's desk. She was no happier to see him now than she had been that morning. 'Angel'

'Hi. can we talk?'

'What's up?'

'It's that demon I killed.'

'Sshhh!' She grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him over to an empty briefing room, just off the main squad room. 'Keep your voice down! You can't just come in here and start tossing around the D word. Anyways, it makes me uncomfortable. Can we just call it an 'evil thing'?'

'Um, yeah, sure … I understand.'

'So … I thought you were gonna take care of it.'

'Yeah I did … but it turns out the evil thing - wasn't an evil thing.'

She looked at him blankly, 'the evil thing wasn't an evil thing?'

He shuffled his feet, struggling to explain, he was never good with words. 'Well, yeah, it was an evil thing in the sense of that word but it wasn't actually evil.'

'There are none evil evil things?' She sounded disbelieving. Angel looked hurt: 'well...yeah.'

They looked away from each other for a moment, each processing their thoughts, wondering how to move forward now that their relationship was so strained. Kate just wasn't ready to accept the world as she now knew it to be, and Angel was just a painful reminder of all the forces beyond her control. For Angel, Kate's mistrust was just another symbol of everything he wanted that he could never have, of the reason things hadn't worked out with Buffy. Demons just couldn't belong in the human world, normal people didn't want them there. Of course, he thought back to his dreams of his father, wanting what he couldn't have had started long before he'd become a vampire. He couldn't have Kate's trust and respect, just like he could never gain his father's. Maybe, like Doyle was realising of himself, it wasn't the demon in Angel that screwed everything up. Maybe it was just Angel.

'Listen, Kate, I need a list of all the passengers from that train this morning.'

'Why?'

'I think the dem - uh I think the train was targeted for a reason.'

'An evil thing needs a reason? There was nothing on that train, we looked.'

'Passengers?'

'All checked out.'

'I'd still like a list, I want to start with that delivery guy..'

'There's nothing here, Angel. Is it still dead?'

'Yeah'

'Then you told me to forget it and I'm forgetting it. Your not evil evil thing was just... evil.'

* * *

'You can't blame her for being Skittish on the topic.' Angel had left the precinct and rung Wesley from his car, the British man was trying to reassure his boss that all would be well.

'I guess so,' Angel agreed. 'It's just ever since she ran me through with a 2X4 things have been different between us.'

Wesley began to walk into the subway tunnel, joining Doyle who had waited for him. Cordelia had disappeared, running on ahead. 'Well she'll come around,' Wesley said into his phone, comfortingly. 'I think you'll find most people require a period of adjustment when confronted with dark forces.' Doyle glanced at him, nodding in agreement. 'Women in particular...' Wesley continued to tell Angel.

'Found it!' Cordelia's excited voice rang out down the tunnel. In the distance she was just visible bending over the Kwaini demon's corpse, she was waving a hacksaw in the air. Doyle laughed, if women in particular struggled with the concept of dark forces then it was fair to say that Cordelia was not most women. But then he already knew there was nobody in the world quite like Cordelia, that was why he was so in love with her - and why he should just take the leap and tell her about his demon half already. If anyone could handle it, Cordy could.

…'struggle with it,' Wesley finished his sentence; gazing at Cordelia, as she hacked into the demon, with a sort of fascinated disgust.

'Maybe,' Angel reluctantly agreed with his friend. 'I'm just worried that as she's struggling with the bigger picture, she'll lose sight of the details.'

'Which is?'

'Why a delivery guy was on a commuter train in the middle of his shift.'

'Good point' Wesley agreed. Doyle nodded along next to him, he'd been thinking that since this morning.

...  


The two men finally caught up with Cordelia, who appeared to be having the time of her life sawing away at the Kwaini. 'You seem to know what you're doin' there, darlin'. Bodies not bother you then?' Doyle said to her, squatting down beside her and then recoiling a little at the blood and gore.

'Please!' she tutted 'You think this is my first autopsy? We used to do morgue time in the scooby gang.'

'Y'did?'

'Damn skippy! Like one time we thought Oz might be killing people, so we had to break into the morgue to examine a mauled corpse - it was pretty gross, but we held it together.'

'Why did you think Oz was killin' people?' Doyle asked in bemusement. She shrugged her shoulders as she continued to hack away at the corpse. 'It was the full moon, the body was mauled, we put two and two together, luckily we made five. It wasn't Oz.'

'But why Oz?'

She stopped what she was doing and looked at him. _'Because Oz is a werewolf_ ,' she said slowly and clearly, as if she thought Doyle wasn't very bright.

'Oz? The guy who brought Angel the gem of Amara. That guy is a werewolf?'

'Yep, your little Bam Bam, himself.' Doyle grimaced in embarrassment as he remembered how drunk he had got, or didn't exactly remember, that was how drunk he had been. Then he pulled his thoughts together. 'Oz is a werewolf … and you were friends with him?'

A look of annoyance crossed Cordelia's face. 'I work for a vampire, hello!'

'It's true .. it's just...'

'Oz can't help being a werewolf anymore than Angel can help being a vampire, jeez Doyle, bigot much?'

Doyle put his hands up in surrender. 'I liked Oz, I'm just surprised… that's all.'

'What's the big shock?'

'I dunno I guess … a girl like you ... wanting to be friends with … your just full of surprises is all.'

'Well, duh!' She carried on sawing away at the body in front of her and, in the gloom of the tunnel, she did not notice the glimmer of hope that started to spread across Doyle's face.

* * *

Angel had tracked the delivery guy back to his depot. This was the only lead he had and he intended to trail him. The guy came out of the building talking to someone on his cell. He got in his truck and drove off. Angel followed.

The delivery guy pulled up outside an apartment building and went inside. He wasn't carrying a package so that was suspicious enough for Angel to get out and follow him inside. The delivery guy knocked on a door. It was Trevor Lockley that opened it. Kate's father handed the other man a brown package, he put it in his delivery satchel and then he left. Mr. Lockley went back inside his home. Angel gave the guy enough time to leave the building and then he, himself, knocked on Mr. Lockley's door. Trevor opened it again looking mildly irritated, he hadn't expected another interruption so soon.

'Mr Lockley?'

'Yeah?'

'I'm Angel … we met at your retirement party , I'm a friend of your daughter's.'

Mr. Lockley was immediately concerned. 'Katie? Did something happen?'

'No, she's fine.'

'Is she with you?'

'No, she doesn't know I'm here either. But I bet she would be interested in knowing who else was just visiting you. You know she actually thinks you were at the crime scene today because you were worried about her?'

Mr. Lockley was not impressed. 'What do you want?'

'I want to know what was in that package, the one you just gave to the delivery guy.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Angel sighed, he wished this could be easier, that the old man would just come clean. 'You removed something from that crime scene today, something somebody didn't want the cops to find. I want to know what was in that package. I will find out. Who do you work for?'

'I don't work for anybody, I'm retired. You were at the party, remember?'

'Look, I'm just trying to protect Kate.'

'Protect her from what?'

'From finding out that you weren't at the crime scene today because you care about her.'

Mr. Lockley shut the door in his face. That had gone well.

He needed to return to the office, to regroup and think of a new plan. He needed his team to find out what was wrong with that Kwaini and to follow the delivery guy until he took them somewhere useful. He wanted to keep Mr. Lockley out of this as much as possible, he wasn't lying when he said he was interested in protecting Kate. She might have turned against him, but he still very much valued and respected her; and no one deserved to have their father's flaws exposed to them so cruelly.

* * *

Back at the office he started to sketch the delivery guy, he was planning on sending Cordelia on reconnaissance when his three employees returned. But, as he drew, his mind turned over the problem of Kate's father and he soon found himself dwelling on his own...

_..._

_Liam stumbled up to his mother and sister, his father was behind him, shouting at him to mind him; he was always shouting. 'No tears sweet Kathy, we'll meet again,' the young man told his little sister. Still, she wept. He turned away from her and faced his father 'You'll be wanting to move away from the door now, father.'_

' _You can go through it, but don't expect to return,' the older man said._

' _As you wish, father, always, just as you wish.'_

' _It was a son I wished for!' his father threw back at him. 'A man! Instead God gave me you, a terrible disappointment.'_

' _Disappointment?' Liam was incredulous. 'A more dutiful son you could never have hoped for. Every day you told me by look and by word what it was you expected of me, and I lived down to your every expectation.'_

' _That's madness!'_

' _No, what's madness is that I could never fail for you enough, father. Ah well, we'll fix that now won't we?' He moved towards the door, but his father was still blocking it, not letting him through. 'I fear for you, boy!' he said._

' _Is that all you can feel in your heart for me father?'_

' _Who's going to take you in, huh? Where will you sleep?'_

' _Ah, I'll not want for a place to sleep, I assure you of that.' Liam made another stride towards the door. 'Now out of my way.'_

_A look of incredible sadness, of realisation of a lifetime's worth of misunderstandings, crossed his father's face and it was in a heavy, almost pleading voice that he spoke his final words to his son 'I was never in your way, boy.'_

_But Liam didn't listen, didn't hear, didn't see. He pushed past his father and marched out into the world, out into the night. Out into the waiting arms of Darla..._

...

' _I can show you my world'. A seductive whisper in a stinking alleyway. A flash of red as she slashed across her cleavage. 'Close your eyes,' she murmured. And Liam slipped into darkness..._

...

He was staring into space, brooding, when his three friends returned; burial detail over, chopped up Kwaini parts ready to analyse. He gave his orders and then retreated to his underground apartment, slamming the elevator gate as he left the office. He knew it wouldn't take long. Sure enough, Doyle appeared downstairs a few minutes later wanting to know what was wrong with his friend.

* * *

Trevor had gone to see Kate, he had taken her out for lunch near the precinct. Only hot dogs but it was a good, cop's lunch. 'So you've been good?' he asked her. She agreed, she was fine, things were going well. 'And uh - How's Angel?'

'Excuse me?'

'Tall, good looking fella you brought to my retirement do.'

'Yeah I know who you mean,' but she was at a loss as to why she was having a conversation about him.

'You two still seeing each other?'

'We were never ...what's this about?'

'Huh? So what's wrong with him, he married?'

'No.'

'West Hollywood?'

'Daddy! No,' she laughed.

'So does he have a job?'

'Yeah, he's a PI.'

'He any good.'

She bit into her hot dog and chewed thoughtfully. She knew the answer, she didn't like the answer but she knew it. And she was honest to a fault. 'Yeah, he's very good.'

'Good. It's good that he's good.'

She took another bite and then sat back and scrutinised her father. Something strange was going on, of that much she was sure. It was weird enough that he would come down to this part of the city in the middle of the day just to see her. It was especially weird that his main topic of conversation was about a guy he met once over four months ago. 'Why are you asking?' she asked, once she had swallowed.

'He made an impression.'

'Yeah? You liked him?'

'No.'

Curioser and curioser. 'Okay,' she said slowly, 'then what is this about?'

Her father looked at her a little sadly. She was too like him in many ways: a dedicated cop, living for the job, no friends outside of work, no personal life to speak of. It was the way he had become after her mother had died and it was the only way Kate knew how to be, the only way of life she remembered. But now he was retired, with little to show for his years of service, a tinny pension and a long service badge; spending his days listening to his stolen scanner and having to do things he would never have believed of himself to try and stop the same fate befalling his Katie. He owed it to her to encourage her down a different path, if he could do nothing else for her, he could stop her ending up like him. He sighed before he answered her.

'It's not good to be alone, Katie.'


	27. The Prodigal: Part Three

Wesley was working at the dining table, he had on a white lab coat, though God alone knew where he had procured it, and some latex gloves. He was analysing the specimen they had brought back from the subway tunnel. Although the three of them had buried the body of the Kwaini on consecrated ground and Wesley had spoken aloud the Latin words to ensure the dead remained dead, they had removed a sample of the Kwaini's tissue for Wesley to investigate. Well, hacksaw happy Cordelia had removed the sample, her two male friends had stood well back and tried not to gag.

Angel was slumped on his sofa, still talking to Doyle, as they waited for the results. He was telling his friend what was bothering him; about the dreams that were haunting him at night and then clouding over his days, and how they seemed to link with the situation he found himself in with Kate and her father; the echoes of the past tangling itself up with the present. Doyle was sympathetic, he knew only too well how nightmares that had a basis in reality could prey on your mind, even in the harsh light of day, and he wasn't talking about his 'naked in the freezer section of the grocery store' anxiety dreams.

'Well this confirms it,' Wesley announced. The other two men left their space and went to see what the watcher had found. 'This creature definitely was a Kwaini.'

'So they've evolved?' Angel concluded 'grown violent...'

_..._

_The old man stood a long time at the grave side of his son. His wife and daughter had wept at the funeral, but he had no tears. Only regrets and anger, some for himself, some for his boy and some just aimed at the world in general. As it grew dark, he left. As it grew dark, Darla arrived. She smiled in triumph as a hand broke through the surface of the fresh grave. She had made herself a playmate, and an unusually fine one at that. Liam, Angelus, slowly clawed his way out. He clambered out of the grave and stood beside his sire, she put an arm around him to support him. 'Welcome to my world,' she said. 'It hurts, I know, but not for long. Birth is always painful.'_

' _I could feel them,' the freshly wakened vampire exclaimed in wonderment, 'as I slept beneath the earth, their heart beats, their blood - coursing through their veins.'_

_Her smile was proud, this one was a natural. 'Yes'._

' _Was it a dream?' he wondered._

' _A dream for you. Soon - their nightmare.'_

_The two creatures of the night, the centuries old woman and her brand new boy, were interrupted then by a groundskeeper. 'You there!' he called at them, 'what have you done? Grave robbers!' Angelus left the safety of Darla's arms and, with a backwards glance at her, made his way towards this little human. How small he seemed now._

_His sire smiled at him in encouragement: 'you know what to do.' And for the very first time this new vampire changed his face, obscuring Liam's handsome features with the face of the demon that now lived inside of him. The Groundskeeper dropped his lantern and began to pray, sobbing in terror as he recited the Lord's Prayer and a Hail Mary. Angelus grabbed the man by the throat and drank. He was different now, strong, powerful, immortal. As he felt the blood flow into his mouth and down his own throat, he realised that he had evolved; that he would never just be Liam again. This was what he was born to do. Finally that feckless, worthless human had found his true talent. He was a monster. It was all so clear._

' _It all makes sense now, doesn't it?' Darla asked him, as he dropped the groundskeeper's dead body onto the earth beside his own grave._

' _Perfect sense.'_

' _You can do anything, have anyone in the village. Who will it be?'_

_The power was intoxicating, the blood was a drug. 'Anyone? I thought I'd take the whole village...'_

...

...'No I don't think so,' Wesley was saying. Angel jerked back into the present. Doyle gave him a fleeting look and the vampire knew his half demon friend had noticed him zone out. 'My tests detect something else.' The watcher continued. He held up a piece of meat, Doyle tried not to think about what it was, or what it had been, or where Cordy might have cut it from. Angel, though, was far less squeamish.

'What is it?'

'Think of it as the Kwaini's adrenal gland. Normally it should be the size of a walnut. I believe the inflammation has been caused by this...' Wesley replaced the adrenal gland on its silver tray and picked up a bottle, which he shook at the other two men. 'I found traces of it throughout the demon's system. I can't be sure exactly what it is but what I can tell you is that it's synthetic and contains properties not dissimilar to street PCP.'

'The demon was on drugs?' Doyle asked, incredulously.

'Well… it's more metaphysical in nature, eye of newt is one of the ingredients,' Wesley clarified. 'But essentially, yes.'

'That's why it attacked the train' Angel realised. 'The delivery guy must have been carrying it. This drug turns peaceful demons violent and increases innate strength?'

'Times twenty, I would say,' agreed Wesley.

'Then can you imagine what would happen if an already battle ready demon took it?' The vampire turned to Doyle. 'If these drugs are being pushed in the underworld then word must have gone out, could you maybe…'

'Hey man, no way! I'm already in hiding. I can't return to that well until my debt is paid, y'know that. If I start asking questions about drug pushing I'll wind up dead ...or worse.'

Angel nodded, he understood, he did. But this situation with Doyle and Darin McNamara needed resolving. The company needed Doyle's contacts to run their business, he couldn't dodge them forever. And Angel would quite like his couch back one of these days.

...

A clunking of high heels on the stairs announced the arrival of Cordelia, freshly returned from following detail. She wore a short blonde wig and sunglasses, taking the incognito thing to a whole new level. Maybe it was for the best: 'Stain Be Gone' posters and billboards were pasted all over the city bearing Cordelia's beautiful, beaming face blown up to gigantic proportions, the delivery guy might notice if he was being trailed by the girl from the washing powder ads. But her cunning disguise reminded Doyle of the day he had found her giving the hard sell to an empty chair; when Cordelia got into her gumshoe character, she went all out. He loved that about her.

'Guys! security system!' she called out to them as she reached the bottom of the staircase. 'What's the point of having it if you don't turn it on? I could be any horrible, disgusting demon just breaking in.' She reached the table and waved her arm towards Wesley's autopsy, 'move your ...entrails.'

'So your back,' Angel stated the obvious. No one else seemed to be paying too much attention to the wig and glasses, but it was all Doyle could think about.

'Very good Mr 'I can't tail a suspect during the day because I'll burst into flames' Private eye.'

'What did you find out?'

'First off I hate following detail, next time it's Doyle's turn, OK?'

'The voyeuristic aspect is rather unseemly,' Wesley agreed with her.

'And the traffic!' Cordy was indignant, 'and can I just mention, the parking?'

'Not like in the movies?'

'No … but fortunately, I am.' She took out her camcorder and showed them a row of still shots. 'It turns out our delivery guy really is a delivery guy … but…' she flipped to a picture of an auto warehouse '...this fancy little bistro was where he decided to stop for lunch. He was in there for, like, ever and I don't know what they were serving but that sure is a lot of leftovers, huh?' She flipped to the next still which showed the delivery guy leaving with a whole load of large, brown packages.

'That's the source,' Angel said, 'that's where all the packages are coming from.'

* * *

Trevor Lockley entered the auto warehouse, he was not happy, but he had some news that his new business associates would want to know about. 'His name is Angel,' Mr. Lockley told a guy in a sharp, grey suit. 'He's some sort of private eye and apparently he's good. I don't know why he's looking into this .. what was in that package?'

'Mr. Lockley we agreed...'

'We agreed I'd use my old department contacts to help you move untariffed autoparts. We agreed nothing about removing evidence from crime scenes or me having to pump my daughter for information.'

'And we're thankful for you're going above and beyond the call of duty.' The grey suited man held out a large, brown manilla envelope. It was full. Trevor scowled, but he stuck his hand out and took it. As he turned to leave he spoke over his shoulder. 'If you want my advice … whatever you're moving in those packages, quiet it down for a while.'

...

Once the old man was gone,a large, green, hideous demon came out of the shadows to speak with the man in the grey suit. 'Any instructions on how to deal with this Angel person, sir?' asked grey suit.

'Kill him.'

'And what about Lockley?'

'Kill him as well.'

* * *

The team were back up in the office, Cordelia had finally removed her wig and glasses and, as dusk was beginning to fall, was showing Wesley how to set the alarm code. 'See … it's easy 0 -1-2 -9.' Doyle frowned and then his expression cleared as he remembered. 'Y'know, darlin' the rest of the world puts the day before the month.' Writing the short date had always been a pain back in his teaching days. Wesley nodded along in agreement with him.

'The rest of the world is wrong, duh!' The two foreigners to her nation shared a knowing smile with each other - Americans!

'So now we should be protected by state of the art home and workplace security. Designed to complement any room, home or office. ™,' Wesley read from the back of the brochure.

'Exactly,' Cordelia beamed. 'Now no lurking minions of hell can get in without us knowing about it.'

'Safe as houses,' Doyle agreed.

'Damn skippy!'

'Its getting dark.' Angel marched into the outer office on his way out. 'I'm going to that auto warehouse to see what I can find out.'

'Y' need any back up, bud?'

'No this is strictly recon.'

'Very wise,' interjected Wesley 'Only fools rush in.'

'No, Wesley , you're staying here' Cordelia told him. Wes looked affronted, Doyle and Angel hid their smiles.

As he reached the door, Angel bumped into Kate who was just arriving. The security system stayed silent. In exasperation, Cordelia yanked the brochure off Wesley and went to investigate why her fully integrated, switched on, state of the art alarm was not doing its job.

...

Angel took Kate into his office. She had changed her mind and was bringing him the list of passengers he had asked for. She told him she trusted him to get to the bottom of this, which he appreciated, and that whilst she was never going to be comfortable with his circumstances, she wanted to be included in the case if he found anything. Angel agreed to that.

'Hey, Kate,' he said, just as she was leaving, 'what made you change your mind?'

She turned round to look back at him. 'My father, actually.'

* * *

Kate had gone, and Angel was searching the office. He had had a change of plan. He was going back to Mr. Lockley's place to warn him about what he was getting involved with. Wesley was trying to dissuade him but Angel was having none of it. He wanted to protect Kate and he wanted to protect Trevor from paying too high a price for one bad choice.

...

' _You're no different from the rest of them are you, father?' The old man whirled around from where he had been desperately boarding up his windows. His dead son leaned against the wall behind him. It couldn't be._

' _Be gone, unclean thing! A demon cannot enter the house unless he has been invited.'_

' _That's true, but then, I was invited.' The old man looked beyond the demon that wore his son's face, and his own crumpled in heartbreak as he saw his beloved daughter, slumped dead against the doorway. The vampire glanced at her body as well. 'She thought I had returned to her,' he told his father, 'an angel.' His father charged at him, hammer in hand, but Angelus easily dodged him, he was so much quicker and stronger than he had been. 'It's strange, Father,' he said, 'you seemed so much taller when I was alive … to think I ever let such a tiny, trembling thing such as yourself make me feel the way you did. You told me I wasn't a man, that I'd never amount to a thing, but see, father' His face morphed into the hideous visage of the demon before he pounced, 'I have made something of myself after all.'_

...

Angel glanced around the room in irritated fury, Cordelia held out his car keys and he snatched them off her and stalked out, leaving the other three behind. Cordelia, convinced she had got it right this time, armed the security system. A second after it had beeped to let them know it was online, another Kwaini - as violent as the last one - burst through the door. 'Door is open,' the robotic voice of the alarm stated.

'Yeah, we know, thanks!' Cordelia shouted back at it.

The Kwaini headed straight towards her, but Wesley, being the closest, tackled it away from her. The demon was much stronger than he and he was soon pinned underneath it. Cordelia smashed a vase over its head, but that achieved nothing and she moved out of the way to allow Doyle to try and pull the frenzied creature off the watcher. He was just about managing, when the alarm spoke again: 'bathroom window is ajar'. A second Kwaini burst out of the bathroom door and launched itself at Doyle's back. He let go of the first Kwaini, which immediately went back to pummelling Wesley, and he and the second demon fell onto the floor, rolling round and around as they wrestled.

Cordelia had grabbed a chair and was trying to bash it against the first demon to get it to let go of the watcher, but it was having little effect and Wesley was slowly turning purple, as the Kwaini throttled him. Annoyed by the bashing, the first demon stopped what it was doing, momentarily, to throw Cordelia away from itself and against the wall. Cordelia slumped down, hurt. The demon grabbed Wesley's throat once more.

Pinned under his own assailant, Doyle could see that the life was being choked from his friend, and could see that Cordelia lay still and vulnerable on the floor. But, in his human form, he was no match for the souped up demon. If he was going to save the three of them, he was going to have to use his demon form. This was not the way he wanted Cordelia to find out, this was the worst possible way for her to realise that he had been keeping secrets from her. He couldn't bear to imagine the look on her face when she saw his own demon one, the disappointment when she realised he had been lying to her, the disgust when she saw what he was. But the gagging, spluttering sounds coming from Wesley's direction told him he had no choice … it was now or never...

'Hey!' Angel's voice cut through the melee, he was waving the bottle that Wesley had showed him earlier. 'I bet you'd like some of this.' Immediately the two demons abandoned the men they were fighting and launched themselves at the vampire. Wesley took great gasping breaths of relief and Doyle felt like doing the same … though it wasn't the removal of the physical danger that caused the horrible tension in his chest to abate. Angel had come back. Angel had saved them. Saved him.

Angel threw the bottle and the Kwaini dived after it. He grabbed one of them and threw it through the window. 'Window is open,' the alarm informed them. Cordelia picked herself up from the floor, 'right, I'm turning it off!'

Angel grabbed the second demon and pinned it to the desk 'I know you can talk,' he snarled, 'so talk.'

* * *

The Kwaini's information caused a change of plan for the second time that night. The drugs were being pushed by vampires led by another, less friendly looking demon. Mr. Lockley was mired in this up to his neck and he had no idea what he was dealing with but his life was in danger. Angel raced off to Mr. Lockley's place. But, aware that Trevor was in immediate danger, he was now taking Doyle as his backup. On the way, he rang Kate. He got no answer, so he left her an urgent message telling her to get to her father's as fast as she could.

* * *

Mr. Lockley had invited two of the grey suits into his home and offered them a drink. They asked him some questions about Kate: did she know about them? Had he mentioned their little arrangement? Trevor assured them that he not involved his Katie, that she wasn't crooked and she would never have to be thanks to the money he was getting from this deal.

'Ah, providing for her future, very noble.'

'Is there anything else?' Mr Lockley asked the grey suits.

'Just one more thing' ...

The door burst open, Angel and Doyle were outside. 'Mr. Lockley you have to invite me in!' Angel yelled at him

'What? What are you doing here? Go away!' He sounded angry - but he didn't see that, behind him, the grey suits had vamped out. They grabbed the old policeman and bit down.

Doyle didn't wait, he morphed into his demon face and shouldered past Angel, using his extra strength to grab the first vampire off Mr. Lockley. Angel hovered by the door in frustration. Even as a demon, Doyle was a poor match for a vampire, but the surprise of his attack was on his side and the momentum allowed him to crash on top of his opponent, where he plunged a stake straight into his heart. The vampire crumbled to dust. Doyle rolled over and pulled himself up; the second vampire was still biting and Trevor was fading fast. The small demon launched himself at the pair of them knocking them to the ground, Mr. Lockey lay still, bleeding out. Doyle righted himself, grabbed the final vampire and flung it with all his might towards the doorway. It stumbled through, and Angel was able to join in the fray at last.

As the two vampires exchanged blows, Doyle, still in demon face, grabbed a dishcloth and went to Mr. Lockley. He knelt behind the older man, pulling his head and shoulders up onto his knees and then applied pressure to the neck wound. The blood soaked through the tea towel quickly and Doyle wished he'd brought Cordy's first aid kit with him.

'Daddy!' Kate had arrived and stopped in the doorway, staring at the monster that held her dying father. 

**'Kate, No!'**

Something in Angel's voice made Doyle look up at the police officer, even as he tried desperately to stop Mr. Lockley from bleeding to death. His red eyes met her blue ones and he registered, just fleetingly, the look from his nightmares; the look Harri had worn that warm May day in 1995, the look he imagined on Cordelia's face in his darkest fears. Then Kate pulled the trigger...


	28. The Prodigal: Part Four

He was hit in the shoulder. It hurt. A kind of burning, stinging pain that seemed to spread poisonous tendrils out from the bullet wound and make his entire arm, and the right side of his chest, ache. He fell backwards off his knees, his back hitting against the cupboards of the kitchen counter. Mr. Lockley slid out of his lap and onto the floor. Kate rushed towards her father, crying. She seized the bloody towel and pressed it against his neck, as she fished out her cell phone and dialled 911.

Angel finished off his vampire and frantically turned back to the apartment. He still couldn't enter. Doyle's intervention had stopped the old man from bleeding out and the mystical barrier that barred the vampire's entrance was still in place. 'Doyle!' he shouted to his friend. Kate's head jerked up as she heard his name and she stared at the demon that was writhing in agony on her father's kitchen floor. Doyle looked back at her, as he morphed back into his human face, but the pain intensified once he was in his weaker form, and he changed straight back again. 'Angel, man!' he groaned 'it hurts!'

Kate decided she had no time to feel any guilt over the injured evil thing on the floor, even if it turned out to be an evil thing she knew, a non evil evil thing as Angel had told her could happen. Instead she barked out instructions down the phone at the 911 operator and turned her eyes back on her father, willing him to stay with her.

Realising an ambulance was on its way, that normal humans were about to arrive; Doyle grabbed his right shoulder with his left hand and rolled his body around so he could get back onto his knees. Using the support of the counter at his back, he managed to get more or less upright and stagger towards the door. Once over the threshold he collapsed gratefully into Angel's waiting arms. The two demons then stumbled their way out of the building, Angel holding up Doyle all the way, and fell into the car. Angel drove like a maniac to get back to the office, whilst the half demon lay in the back seat, clutching his shoulder, still wearing his demon spikes to help mitigate the pain.

As they pulled up outside their building, Doyle braced himself and then returned to his human features. Immediately the burning, shooting agony worsened, and he yelled out. The back door opened and Angel appeared behind his head. Very gently, for a man of his size and strength, the vampire helped his friend into a sitting position and then half carried, half helped him out of the convertible. Leaning against Angel once more, Doyle limped through the lobby and into their outer office. The look on Cordelia's face, when she saw him injured, was almost worth the agony of getting shot. She cared, and now he knew it for sure.

* * *

Down stairs, in the apartment, Angel was preparing for war. This drug pushing demon had tried to murder Mr. Lockley and had nearly ended up getting Doyle killed as a consequence. It was about to find out exactly what happened to creatures that threatened or endangered Angel's friends.

Doyle, himself, was on the floor, using the brick pillars as support. It was the exact same spot Angel had sat in, that first night the three of them had been together, the night Russell Winters had attacked Cordelia, back when it was Angel who was shot and Doyle who was digging out the bullets. The vampire remembered the pain, and knew it must be ten times worse for his less powerful, non immortal, friend.

Between the three of them they had managed to get Doyle downstairs in the elevator and into a place where he could brace himself for his impromptu surgery. Wesley had stripped Doyle's shirt and vest off him and then poured scotch over the wound. That had made the Irishman cry out, and it had taken all his will not to morph into demon face as the alcohol stung his flesh. The British man had then passed the rest of the bottle to Doyle and advised him to drink deeply from it whilst he used the scalpel from the Kwaini autopsy to excavate the bullet. The half demon did not need telling twice, and he necked the scotch as he watched the scalpel near his wound. It was better than biting down on something, but it still wasn't enough, and he cried out as Wesley cut into him. He turned away, unable to face seeing the sharp blade wiggling in his shoulder, and his new line of sight showed him Cordelia, readying the first aid kit, but keeping her face carefully averted from the carnage.

He took another swig. The alcohol burned comfortably in his belly and started to make his head buzz in a pleasant sort of way. He felt his muscles relax as the scotch worked through his system, making him less aware. But faced away from Wesley, and unprepared for the next cut, he yelled out again when he felt the scalpel dig into him for a second time.

'Got it,' Wesley sounded triumphant.

'Finally,' Cordelia was relieved and, gross part over, she bent down over her friend ready to patch him up. In pain, and tipsy as he was, Doyle suddenly felt self conscious and exposed, sitting there half naked as Cordelia started cleaning and bandaging his bullet wound. He put the bottle out of his left hand and brought that arm across his chest, as some measure of defence. Angel was always wandering around half naked, Cordelia must have seen his glistening abs more than a dozen times, but Doyle was painfully aware that he looked nothing like Angel did with his shirt off and that he would not come off well in any comparison Cordelia might be making in her head. It was reminiscent of some of his anxiety dreams, but at least it was just his top … and at least it wasn't cold.

But even as he futilely attempted to cover his chest with his left arm, he noted that she didn't appear to be looking at him, at least not to make comparative notes on how he and Angel fit into the parameters of male beauty. She was entirely focused on his shoulder, and her hands were gentle as she applied the bandage.

'Hey, Cor?' he croaked.

She stopped what she was doing and looked into his face, her eyes were as gentle as her hands had been. 'How come you don't mind cutting up the dead body of a demon, but you can't watch Wesley dig a bullet out of me?'

' _Because,'_ she said, her voice was brittle and practical, completely different from her eyes. Her tone made him realise how worried she was, she sounded like she was working hard not to cry. He didn't think he'd ever seen Cordy cry, she seemed far too brave for that. 'That was a _demon_ , I didn't know it and It was dead. You, on the other hand, are live and squirming. And you're a person, and you're ... my friend.' She finished up with what she was doing. 'All done,' she said in falsely bright tones. Doyle squinted down at the bandage on his shoulder, 'thanks, Cordy', he slurred, the scotch well and truly taking effect now. He searched out Wesley, with his eyes, as well, 'Thanks, Wesley' he said when he located where the British man was standing.

The two of them helped him up, and supported him across the room, back to the sofa. Once there, Wesley helped him put his shirt back on and then they left him to lie down and sleep away the pain and the alcohol.

They crossed the room to where Angel was gearing up, he was fixing on his arm sheaths and had strapped a knife to his waist and ankle. He grabbed a throwing star. 'What happened to cautious reconnaissance, not rushing in?' asked Wesley.

'That was plan A.' Angel replied 'This guy's outfit nearly got Doyle killed, so I'm moving onto plan B, And believe me, plan B is a lot more violent.' Cordelia nodded along vehemently. She had once beaten a hideous demon viciously about the head, with a silver tray, for daring to try and hurt Doyle; and she only wished she was big and strong enough to go with Angel and do some serious damage on her friend's behalf this time, as well. She had never wanted to be like Buffy, she was far too mopey and her hair was awful, but sometimes she did think Buffy's powers might come in useful. What on earth was the universe thinking choosing that whiny little thing to be its greatest protector? What couldn't Cordy do with a tenth of her power? Instead, she would hover anxiously over Doyle, as Angel played the hero and got all the satisfaction of retribution. Grimly, she passed her vampire boss an axe. 'Get him,' she said.

Ready for battle, Angel set back out into the night.

* * *

Angel walked into the auto warehouse. More of the grey suited vamps were seated around a desk, he threw his throwing star into the forehead of one of the ones facing him and then used his arm sheaths to stake two of the others as they ran at him. It wasn't long before the disturbance caused the big, head demon to enter the fray. He did not seem impressed to see Angel. 'You think you know what you're doing?' He snarled at the vampire, 'you have no comprehension of what stands before you.'

'A big ugly drug running demon who thinks he's scarier than he is? Yeah, I know.' Angel swung his axe at two more of the vampires and beheaded them in one swift movement. It was only the big demon and the one vampire incapacitated by the throwing star, now.

'You're dead,' the demon growled.

'I'm already dead, join the club.' He swung his axe and beheaded the demon. A satisfying spray of blood and gore gushed out from its brain stem. The headless body fell to the ground. Angel put the final vampire out of its misery, and staked him through the heart, before he left the warehouse.

* * *

The following day, as business hours drew to a close, Cordelia and Wesley were just preparing to leave the office and go home, when Kate arrived. Angel was seated in his own office, alone, behind the desk. Doyle had already retreated downstairs to take more aspirin and sleep. The vampire looked up as the detective walked into the room. 'How's your father?' he asked.

'He's going to be OK … he lost a lot of blood but … he'll be OK. It seems he was mixed up in something dangerous, he didn't know what he'd got himself into.' She took a deep breath, looking like she had to admit something she didn't want to, wasn't prepared to. But she was always honest, so she said it anyway. 'If it hadn't been for you, he would have died… Thank you … you saved my father's life.'

'No,' the vampire corrected her. She looked at him, not understanding. ' _Doyle_ saved your father's life. There were two vampires at his place, Kate, and Doyle killed one and threw the other out to me. Your father was bleeding pretty badly by the time he got to him, but he kept the pressure on, stemmed the flow of blood. I couldn't enter that apartment without an invite. If I had gone there last night without Doyle, your father would have died before you got there.' He looked her straight in the eye for the next bit 'And you shot him for it.'

'I didn't know that was Doyle!' Kate tried to defend herself.

'And you didn't care once you found out, he's just another 'evil thing' right? Like me.'

'Fine, I came here to thank you, I've done that. I'm sorry I shot Doyle. I thought he was the monster attacking my father. I wasn't thinking straight, I followed my training. If you have a problem with the way I do my job then maybe we should just end this relationship … whatever this is ...now.'

'I don't have a problem with the way you do your job, Kate. But you need to face up to what's out there now you know, you need to open your mind, not all people need protecting and not all 'evil things' are evil. There's no more black and white anymore. And if you can't do that then you'll hurt more innocent people than you'll save. And I _will_ be there to protect them.'

'You're going to protect people from _me_?' she asked incredulously.

'If that's what it takes.'

'Fine.'

'Fine'.

She turned round and stalked out. Angel sank back into his seat, they had moved on in their relationship in the past couple of days, but he still had no idea where they were or what it meant. Or if their friendship was salvageable.

...

' _This contest is ended is it?' Darla asked her new playmate, as he sat in his family's house, his dead relatives piled around him._

' _I've won.'_

' _You're sure?'_

' _Of course,' the new vampire was full of himself. 'I've proved who had the power here.'_

' _You think? Your victory over him took but moments.'_

' _So?'_

' _His defeat of you will last lifetimes.'_

' _What do you mean? He's dead, he can't defeat me now.'_

' _Nor can he ever approve of you,' his sire warned. 'In this world or any other. What we once were informs who we become, The same love will infect your heart, even when it's no longer beating.'_

_Angelus looked around the room, at his dead family; at the body of his fallen sister, his mother and his finally conquered father. 'Love? Is this the work of love?'_

_Darla smiled sadly at his confusion, at everything he could not understand. 'My darling boy,' she said, 'so young, still so very young.'_

* * *

Angel exited the elevator into his apartment below. Doyle was asleep on the couch, but he was stirring fitfully, dreaming unpleasant dreams. 'Wake up, Doyle,' Angel shook him gently, making sure he only touched the half demon's left shoulder. 'Wake up.' The Irishman woke up with a start and, realising it had only been a dream, breathed deeply, meeting Angel's eyes with his own.

'The nightmare? ' Angel asked him, 'Cordelia?'

Doyle nodded slowly, and gulped. 'I have to tell her, man, it can't go on like this. I need to sort myself out.'

'What do you mean?'

Doyle sat up, he rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face. 'I'm grateful to y' for letting me stay here as long as you have, man, believe me. But I need to get all this over with, I need to move on. We needed my contacts yesterday and I couldn't use 'em and I ended up getting shot because of it. And now Detective Lockley knows I'm a demon, and it's only a matter of time til Cordy finds out. I need to settle up my debts, come clean to Cordy and get on with my life, one way of the other.'

'So you're going?'

'I am. I guess I'm finally ready to face this.'

* * *

Doyle arrived back in his apartment and switched the light on. He had barely put his bag of clothes down when the phone started to ring. It couldn't be ...not already. He picked it up: 'Hello?'

'Mr. Doyle!' Darin McNamara's voice sounded at the other end of the line. 'I've been waiting for you to come home...'


	29. The Ring: Part One

Cordelia sat at her desk; her computer was on and she was looking, with a rather disbelieving expression on her face, at a new website she'd found on the net. 'Demons demons demons,' she read, 'someone really put a lot of effort into that name, didn't they?'

'It's a demon database,' Wesley pointed out. 'What would you call it?'

'I dunno … how about 'demon database?''

'Aah, a name rife with single entendre.'

The two of them were alone in the office. Doyle hadn't shown up today, though neither of them were particularly worried; he was still recuperating from being shot in the shoulder, after all. Angel, on the other hand, _was_ worried. He, alone, knew the details of what Doyle had been hiding from, for the past six weeks, and he alone knew that Doyle had recently made the decision to stop hiding. His absence could portend something very bad, indeed. The lighthearted chit chat that he could hear with his enhanced vampire senses was grating on his nerves, but he didn't say anything as he didn't want to worry Cordelia.

'Why isn't Wolfram and Hart in here?' she was asking

'Because they're Lawyers, not demons?'

'Huh! Same dif, if you ask me.' She tapped on her keyboard and watched as the screen changed, her sceptical expression became rather impressed. 'They have a lot of entries', she told her colleague. 'Did you know there are a dozen species indigenous to L.A County alone?'

'Do they have the Vigories of Oden Tal?' asked Wesley. She tapped on her keyboard again and then shook her head, 'nope.'

'Hmmm,' said Wesley, pleased. He picked up a book and manhandled it lovingly. 'So there is some place in the world for traditional research after all.'

Cordelia continued to check through the database entries, 'there are some ugly looking critters out there!' she said, 'someone ought to set up a demon dating base where the lonely and slimy can connect.' Wesley gave her a look, but she was unrepentant. 'I mean look at this one…' she gestured to the green skinned, red eyed demon that she had brought up on her screen, it had a face full of sharp blue spikes, making it rather reminiscent of a diseased porcupine. 'This one lives in trees and can snap all its joints, including its neck and spine, out of place and put them back together, I mean what kind of statement is it trying to make?'

'I imagine being able to pop everything back in place is quite a good evolutionary trait, for creatures that live in treetops,' Wesley mused 'Their young must fall out at an alarming rate, helpful if a broken neck doesn't mean the end of one's life.'

The front door to the office opened and Doyle staggered in, the two of them looked up in alarm; the Irishman had been badly beaten up, he had bruises all over his face, a cut across his nose and he was limping. 'Doyle!' Cordelia ran across to him and helped him into the green sofa, 'what happened to you?'

'Where's Angel?'

'I'm here,' the vampire had sensed his half demon friend entering the building and was immediately at his side when he saw how badly beaten he was. 'What's going on Doyle? Was it McNamara?'

Doyle shook his head 'No'. Cordelia got her first aid kit out, and started cleaning his cut. He gasped a little as the antiseptic stung, but she continued what she was doing. 'I was out last night with a friend … sort of a friend, Jack.'

'Last name?' the Vampire questioned but Doyle just shook his head. 'He owes money to the same sorta people I do, harmless guy, but in big trouble.'

'And big trouble found the both of you?'

Doyle nodded, 'they took him, right off the street. I tried to help, but…' he gestured to his cuts and bruises.

'We'll find him, don't worry. Do you know who took him?'

'They weren't people, man, they were demons.'

With the help of aspirin and whisky, Doyle was able to give an accurate description of his friend, Jack, and the demons that took him. Wesley had taken notes on the demons and gone off to look through his books, Angel was preparing for war. This was the second time in as many weeks that the underworld had made his best friend a target, and he was not happy about it. He was more than happy, however, to share around his displeasure. Cordelia had listened to Doyle's description of his friend and had made a rough sketch of him, to help Angel identify him.

As she disappeared downstairs to give Angel the finished product, Doyle sidled over to her computer. What he saw on the screen made him stop dead. 'Hey, Cordelia, what's this?' he asked in a fake casual voice as she returned to his side.

'New demon database we were checking out before you came in,' she told him. 'If it's slimy and hideous then it's on here.'

'Huh.' He pretended to smile. 'What's that one you were looking at, though, darlin?'

She frowned at the screen, 'says it's a Brachen demon, from Oregon. It's just what I was up to when you came in. Why? Is it relevant?'

'No… no, just wonderin' is all.'

'Well, Wesley may be book guy, but this database is going to revolutionise the way we research around here, just a few clicks of the mouse and _voila!_ Demon. You wanna do the honours? You're quicker than me at computer stuff.'

Doyle slid in behind the screen and started typing in his description into the search bar. 'Bald, ultra white skin, slime.'

'Tch!' Cordelia was disgusted, 'there's always slime.'

'That Brachen demon didn't look slimy, did it, Princess?'

'No. It looked like a hedgehog. A scary, ugly, hedgehog.'

'Right you are, Princess.' He sounded a little defeated, but she could only assume it was the pain that was making him melancholy. Nobody liked being a punching bag, especially on top of an already injured shoulder. She read the next search parameter over his shoulder, 'did it have claws or hands?' she asked.

'Um … both? Claw like hands, I think.'

She shrugged. 'Maybe it's a mixed breed. Can you mix breeds? Like with puppies?'

Doyle didn't answer. Instead he moved onto the next category. 'Smell -sulphuric.'

'Ha!' Cordelia laughed, 'throw in hair plugs and a Porsche and I've dated this guy - a lot.'

Doyle barely smiled. Boy, he must be feeling really badly about getting beaten up. She hoped he wasn't in too much pain and that it was just a macho ego thing that was grinding his gears. 'Any other distinguishing features?' she asked.

'Yeah, a kind of yell, really high pitched whilst they were fighting.'

'I expect they use a similar cry when they mate,' Wesley interjected, turning a page in his book and scanning for any useful information.

'Yuck! No one wants to think about that Wes! Gross demons mating? Ugghh.' Cordy shuddered. 'Now you just press enter,' she told her silent, battered colleague, helpfully.

Wesley looked up at them from his books, a disapproving expression on his face. 'You know by the time you've finished typing all that into the database I could have…'

'Howler demon!' said Cordelia in triumph, 'there it is.' She stuck her tongue out at Wesley, Doyle leaned back in his chair, quite impressed at how much the database had sped up the usually interminable research process.

'Any ideas of how I find them?' the Vampire had re appeared in the office, armed to the teeth. Doyle and Cordelia leaned back over the screen to skim for any relevant details. 'They're one of L.A's indigenous bunch,' Cordelia read, 'mountain dwellers, but underground?'

'The Hollywood Hills?' Wesley suggested. Doyle nodded slowly and turned to look at his boss, 'I've heard of demon enclaves up there, underground. Rumour has it there's a group lives under Beechwood Canyon, could be these fellas.'

'Then I guess I'm headed to Beechwood Canyon.'

* * *

He waited until night had fallen, and then Angel took the convertible up into the Hollywood Hills. He drove around the upmarket neighbourhood until he found what he was looking for. Lifting the cover from a manhole, he climbed down a ladder and into the sewers that ran beneath the fancy streets of mansions. His flashlight picked out human remains floating in opaque slime, the stench made him cover his nose with the sleeve of his coat. It was times like this that an enhanced sense of smell was a real downside to being a vampire.

A high pitched, eerie, wailing told him he was not alone and, sure enough, less than a moment later, he was attacked by two of the demons from Doyle's description. They were so white they almost glowed and they were completely hairless but covered in the same slime that the body parts floated in. They reached out to him with their claw like hands, looking to shred his flesh and feast on him, as they had done with the hapless human. As he threw his first punch, Angel wondered if the remains were Jack, and was thankful that these creatures had not taken Doyle off the street, as well.

The fight was brutal, the howlers were strong and their strange, undulating cry bounced off the walls of the sewer, echoing back to the fight and messing up Angel's ability to track their movement with his vampire hearing. But, despite their strength, they were not disciplined fighters and Angel was soon able to knock one of them unconscious with his flashlight. He then pinned the other up against the wall.

'I'm looking for a guy, maybe you know him, name of 'Jack' I'm told you took him. Where is he?'

'Not here.'

Angel slammed the demon against the wall for a second time and repeated his question. 'Where is he?'

'We sold him.'

'Uhuh, who to?'

* * *

Wesley and Cordelia had gone down to Angel's apartment to replace the books they had taken from his library in order to research. They had left Doyle lying on the couch in the office, but when they returned he was nowhere to be seen.

'That's weird,' Cordelia said, 'where'd he go?'

'Maybe he went home,' Wesley answered, reasonably. 'He had taken rather a beating and he still hasn't properly recovered from getting shot by Detective Lockley…' He trailed off, he was still confused as to why Kate had shot Doyle. If he understood the circumstances correctly: Doyle had dispatched the vampires biting her father and then set about saving Mr. Lockley's life. It seemed strange that a trained police officer of Kate's calibre would fire at a man so clearly helping, a man she knew, for that matter. He remembered that brief moment in the flower mart, weeks ago, and wondered what Detective Lockley had seen that made her believe the Irishman was a threat. But he said nothing to Cordelia, as he had nothing concrete to tell her, and the young woman clearly had complicated feelings for her friend. It wasn't Wesley's place to interfere on pure conjecture.

Cordelia wasn't convinced by Wesley's reasoning away Doyle's absence though. 'If he just went home … don't you think he would have said 'bye' first?' She sounded quite hurt.

* * *

Angel arrived at a big building in a rundown neighbourhood. For all this was a seedy place to be, there was an expensive convertible parked outside and the people lined up outside the building were finely dressed; rich people on a big night out. They were having their tickets checked by a bouncer and, realising he could not enter through the front door, Angel skulked round to the back and broke in through a basement window.

...

Inside the club a tall, beautiful woman, wearing diamonds around her neck, bought herself a drink at the bar. She had a ticket next to her and as she turned to go she knocked it off the edge. Angel caught it for her.

'You're fast,' she smiled and held out her hand for the ticket. The Vampire glanced at it as he handed it back over: _'Amount $5000 to win Cribb XXI 255459_ ' he read in his mind.

'Thanks,' she said as she took it off him.

'No problem.'

He walked away from the bar and into the next room, which had a large pit sunk into the middle of it. There was a crowd gathered around it and they were all yelling and cheering 'Killing blow killing blow'. The sudden wild crescendo of noise suggested that the death blow had, indeed, been dealt and the announcer started to talk.

'Winner, ladies and Gentleman, Tom Cribb. Official Time 6 minutes and 22 seconds. For those of you counting, this is Cribb's seventh career kill. And now … an old favourite, a crowd pleaser, one of our most popular fighters. It gives me great pleasure to present to you, from the barren wastelands of Treshock. A true champion that has it all … the one … the only … **Val Trepkos!'**

Cribb left the ring as the gates opened and a new fighter entered: Trepkos. But Angel wasn't paying attention. He had spotted a blonde man across the way from him, talking to a man in a suit and another man that Angel couldn't see, as he was obscured by the gathered masses. The vampire frowned and fished out Cordelia's drawing. If Doyle's description was accurate, then this blonde man was 'Jack' and he didn't appear to be in any trouble at all. He didn't understand, and was about to move away, leave the club and go and talk to his friend once again to gather more details, when the crowd shifted slightly and the obscured third man came into view.

It was Doyle.


	30. The Ring: Part Two

Angel backed away. Something was wrong and here wasn't the place to confront his friend. He bumped into the beautiful woman again and she smiled at him, it seemed a friendly enough smile... but her eyes were cold, calculating.

'You headed off so soon?' she asked him. 'Not a fight fan?'

'You are?'

'Its brutal… but I love it. Besides, Darin McNamara is a good man to know.'

'Darin McNamara owns this place?' Angel could barely believe what he was hearing.

'Him and his brother, Jack.'

'Jack? … Jack McNamara?' the woman nodded. Angel stood speechless, his mind began to whirr as he considered the possibilities, tried to work out what it all meant. He came to one, crushing, inevitable conclusion. Doyle had set him up… lured him here so he could be taken and added to the collection of prizefighters. This was how Doyle was having to repay McNamara for giving him the information to save Cordelia's life, by betraying Angel and selling him to this gladiatorial fight club.

He headed towards the entrance and shouldered his way past the bouncer, but out in the alley his way was barred by the two McNamara brothers - both were smiling, unpleasantly. 'Glad you could join us,' Jack said to him. 'You find us OK?'

'This was a setup.' Angel said.

The suited man smiled his chilling smile. 'It was a group effort' he said 'we all played our part, though I must say Francis did his bit beautifully.'

'His bruises, his limp...'

'All for show .. the little half breed took a helluva beating just to trick you, he's dedicated. She must mean a lot to him, that girl. The one he's done all this for, because I wasn't sure we were ever going to find a way to ensnare the infamous vampire with a soul. Oh yes, Mr. Angel, we've had our eye on you for some time now, we just needed a way in.'

'But you haven't got me, yet' The vampire pointed out, his voice was unimpressed - he raised one eyebrow. He wasn't worried about fighting his way past two human men, one a hustler, the other a suit. They were way overplaying their hand if they thought this was a trap. But the men seemed unperturbed by Angel's sneer, unfazed by the implied threat of violence. They just kept on smiling - as if they knew something Angel didn't, barring his way and trapping him in place.

'Angel, man, look out!' Angel swung round just in time to see three men lunge at him, each holding a cattle prod. There was a crackle of electricity as the charged weapons tried to make contact with the vampire. But Doyle's last minute warning from the doorway had given Angel the tiniest advantage he needed to overpower the first man, knock his cattle prod out of his hands, and then throw him into the path of the other two. The humans were no match for his vampire speed and they haplessly electrocuted their crony. The man juddered and fell to the floor, the smell of singed flesh rent the air.

Angel turned back to the brothers and punched Jack before throwing him at his brother. He then ran down the alley way. 'Stop him!' he heard Darin yell, but he slithered down a manhole and into the sewers. He heard his assailants run past on the street above, they would have to return without him. Angel's biggest worry was, now that he had escaped: what would Darin McNamara do to Doyle?

* * *

Doyle woke up to find himself locked in an underground cage. There were similar cages stretching along the walls as far as he could see, and each cage held at least three demons. As he sat up he realised his shirt had been removed, so he was only in his white tank top, and there was a thick silver bracelet encircling his left wrist. The bracelet had XXI inscribed on it. He pulled at it, but it wouldn't come off.

He looked up and saw Darin McNamara standing just outside his cage, glowering through the bars. Two of his lackeys stood either side, holding cattle prods ready. Doyle could still feel the sore spot where they had hit him with the rod, once Angel had escaped. 'You're awake,' the man said, 'you disappoint me, Mr. Doyle. We had a deal.'

'I couldn't betray Angel,' Doyle mumbled. 'He's my friend, It wasn't right.'

'You _owe_ me, Mr. Doyle and Angel was the price we agreed upon.'

'It wasn't right,' Doyle repeated, stubbornly.

McNamara smirked at him, unkindly: 'Well, you've made your choice. You'll have to pay your own debt. There's only two ways out for you now, Mr. Doyle. Either you walk free after 21 kills … or you leave in a box.'

Doyle got to his feet and lurched at the bars. 'You can't do this to me! I'm a human being.' One of the lackeys zapped him with the cattle prod and the sudden shock of electricity forced Doyle's demon features to the fore. Darin McNamara laughed, cruelly, 'human being's don't do that Mr. Doyle. You're an animal, same as the rest of them, and now you'll fight or you'll die.'

Doyle morphed back into his human features. 'I won't fight,' he told his old contact. 'I won't go out there in demon face. Y'think they'll want to watch a human getting killed? Y'think your punters'll be OK with that?'

'I think you give _their_ humanity too much credit, Mr. Doyle. People into blood sports are rarely concerned for the well-being of the creatures that fight.'

'I won't fight in demon face,' Doyle was adamant, determined that the crowds be forced to see that he was a person, like them, and not a monster, like the other fighters.

'Then you'll die,' McNamara told him matter of factly. 'But here's an incentive for you to put on a good show: If we don't think we get our money's worth out of you, if you still owe me by the time you croak, then I'll go back for the vampire you care so much about and let him finish off paying your outstanding amounts. And if _he_ dies before I'm satisfied … then I might just take that pretty girl you work with. I won't make her fight, of course… she can work off your debt to me _personally_ … if you know what I mean.'

Doyle lunged at the bars again, but was electrocuted once more, this time straight into his bad shoulder. He staggered backwards and fell, morphing into his demon face as he crashed to the floor. Darin McNamara laughed an evil, mirthless chuckle and walked away. As he left, he threw one last thing over his shoulder: 'Don't think about escaping Mr. Doyle, if you cross that red line,' he pointed to a thick red stripe painted around the edge of the room, 'whilst you're wearing that bracelet, you'll disintegrate immediately.'

* * *

Cordelia and Wesley were worried; frantic might be a better word for it. Doyle had disappeared the night before, without so much as a word, and he hadn't shown up the next morning. He wasn't answering his phone, either his cell or his landline. Even drunk, unconscious Doyle usually woke up when the phone rang. On top of the missing Doyle, they were also down one vampire. Angel had promised to check in with them after he had finished with the Howler demons, but the hours had passed and no Angel had appeared. And now it was past sunrise, a time not too healthy for a vampire.

'What are we going to do?' Cordelia asked, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears as she thought about the state Doyle had been in the day before, and what kind of trouble he might have found himself in since. She had just left him lying there on the couch the night before, not thinking to watch over him and make sure he was OK. They hadn't even said 'goodbye'.

'We're going to have to retrace Angel's footsteps,' Wesley told her, pulling out a whole load of weapons, choosing a crossbow for himself and then handing her an axe. She looked at it and then back at Wesley. 'We know he went to Beechwood Canyon to find those Howler demons,' the watcher told her, 'so that's where we'll start, but Howlers are strong and I'll need your backup.'

She nodded and got to her feet, gripping her fighting axe tightly. Then the slamming of the elevator gate warned them they were no longer alone in the office. Their vampire boss had finally returned.

* * *

There was a beeping noise and the bars to all the demon cages slid open by themselves. The prisoners walked out into the communal area of the room and sat down at the tables that were positioned just inside the red line. A guard was doling out gruel into bowls and then sliding it down the table on trays. The demons grabbed at it, they were clearly kept hungry. A lizard looking demon, sat next to Doyle, suddenly shot out his long tongue and knocked some bread out of the opposite guy's hand. This guy was much smaller than lizard, about the same size as Doyle, in fact, but younger.

'Hey Cribb that was mine!' The young demon protested.

'And now it's mine,' said the lizard, biting into the bread with relish. Then he stole the smaller demon's bowl of gruel.

'Come on, man, give it back', Doyle said to him.

The Lizard demon looked at him in amused disgust, 'And what the hell are you supposed to be?'

'I'm human,' Doyle said. He sneezed.

Cribb laughed. 'Yeah right, is that what you tell yourself? Well listen ' _human'_ if you open your mouth again I'll shut if for you. Permanently.'

...

Darin and Jack McNamara came walking into the underground room, making sure they stayed well behind the red line. 'Listen up, Ladies,' shouted Jack, 'we've got tonight's fixtures ready.'

Darin took over, 'Vlasovik, you'll be fighting Baker. Then, Trepkos, You're the main event tonight, you'll be up against Malish.'

The little demon, who had had his bread stolen, turned pale.

'That's not a match up, that's an execution' Cribb said.

'Shut your mouth, slave, no one is talking to you,' Jack yelled.

Suddenly a demon leapt across the room, launching itself at the red line in a bid to escape. Doyle looked away as the demon disintegrated into dust before their very eyes. His bracelet fell onto the floor with a clatter, Darin picked it up.

'Damn,' said Jack, 'we paid good money for that one.'

'It doesn't matter,' his brother replied. 'Ut's an object lesson to the rest of the slaves. But we'll need a replacement to fight Baker tonight.'

'What about the Leprechaun?' Jack nodded towards Doyle

'Why not?' Darin agreed, 'let's see if the luck of the Irish is with the half breed tonight.'

The men walked out. Doyle swallowed anxiously. He was no fighter and Baker was big. In front of him, little Malish got up and walked over to Trepkos. 'I'm walking out of there tonight', he told the far larger demon, 'you better know that. I'm walking out of there.' Trepkos said nothing.

* * *

As the crowd gathered around the ring, Darin McNamara found himself talking to the dark haired woman who had spoken to Angel the night before. McNamara was playing with Vlasovik's bracelet as they talked.

'You know I heard something interesting about that new Brachen Demon you're putting in the ring tonight,' she said

'Yeah? What's that?'

She smiled, incredulously 'that he's only a half breed, you're putting up humans now?'

'Doyle's not human, no matter what he pretends.'

'I heard something else too … he's a seer.'

'Is that right?' He laughed. 'Well, all he can see now is himself in a whole load of trouble.'

'How does he measure up stats wise?' the fight fan wanted to know.

'Little runt of a thing,' Darin answered, 'long odds.'

'I'll put my money on Baker then, shall I?'

'That would be wise.'

* * *

Doyle stood at the gate to the ring. He was terrified, there was a leaden weight in his chest and in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just the fighting that frightened him, he'd fought plenty of demons before, bigger than himself, and won. It was the thought of going out there with all those people baying for his blood, because they thought he was just another demon, an animal like any other, that scared him. Even in his most horrific nightmares, he'd never dreamed up a scenario like this. He wasn't going to put on his demon face though, even though he stood a better chance when he was wearing it. He wasn't going to let all those people see the demon in him. If he was going to die, he was going to die as a man.

'Time to go,' Jack said. Doyle walked into the ring, as the announcer introduced him. The noise of the crowd was deafening, though he couldn't work out what their mood was. He stood there resolutely: a human being.

...

He didn't hope that his colleagues were on their way to rescue him, not after he had betrayed Angel that way, but they were. They had put on their finest clothes, Angel had combed his hair into a side parting and put on an over large pair of shades to disguise his face, and they were now outside the arena.

Wesley and Cordelia honed in on a likely looking couple and went up to speak to them. 'Sir, madam, I'm Detective Andrews, this is Detective ... Yelsew, show them your badge.' Wesley waved his wallet vaguely in the air. 'Write down their license plate,' Cordelia carried on with her instructions, ' four, three niner, Peter, Charlie, Edward.'

'What is this about?' the man asked.

'May I see your tickets?' Cordelia asked. He handed them over. 'Uhuh,' she looked at them, 'you do know that what is happening here tonight is illegal don't you?'

'Then what are all these people doing here?'

She sighed, 'Look sir, we're trying to do you a favour.'

'Something's going down,' Wesley interjected in a melodramatic stage whisper, 'something with the _man_!'

'Is there going to be a raid?' asked the man.

'We're not at liberty to say,' Cordelia replied, covertly kicking Wesley.

'But we could just... go on home?'

'I think that would be wise, sir,' she advised. The couple left and Cordelia and Wesley snaffled their tickets. Meanwhile, Angel found himself a lone punter and punched him out. He stashed the body and rifled through his pockets until he found the ticket. The three of them then entered the arena.

Once inside, Angel made his way over to Darin McNamara, leaving the other two behind. 'What is all this?' Cordelia asked.

'These Octavian matches go back to the Roman Empire, I'd heard there's been a revival.'

'They couldn't just do West Side Story? What's with the red line?'

'If anyone crosses it wearing a special bracelet then they disintegrate.'

'Oh'.

The two of them moved closer and Cordelia finally got a clear view of exactly who it was in the ring. 'Doyle!' she gasped in horror. 'How can they be using him? He isn't a demon, he's human! He'll be killed.' Wesley didn't say anything.

...

Doyle was being beaten pretty badly, he was knocked to the ground and forced himself back up again. He hadn't the strength to do any damage of his own, not in his human form, and he was still determined not to show the crowd his demon face. Up above, Darin McNamara put the bracelet he was still toying with down on the edge of the ring, and dropped a knife into the pit for Baker to use.

'Killing Blow Killing blow!' the crowd roared. Cordelia stood ringside with her hands covering her mouth in horror, Wesley put an arm around her as she seemed to sway, fearing she might faint.

Baker slashed at Doyle with the knife and cut him along his upper arm, not far from where he'd been shot not that long ago. The pain was sudden, and made Doyle feel instantly sick. Worse, the shock of it finally forced the spikes out from under his skin. The crowd screamed in delight at finally seeing his true face and the noise made him look up. His red eyes connected with the distraught, brown eyes of Cordelia, and for one heart stopping moment he forgot where he was, forgot everything but the fact that she had seen him, before he could tell her the truth. He never saw the blow coming. Baker punched him so hard in the head that his neck was thrown backwards and snapped. His lifeless body collapsed to the floor. Cordelia screamed.


	31. The Ring: Part Three

Wesley had managed to pull Cordelia back outside, though she had fought him all the way, sobbing and kicking and struggling to get back to the ring, to get back to Doyle. Once she was in the alley way she collapsed against her friend's chest, her legs giving way completely, held up only by Wesley's strong arms. He stroked her hair and tried to soothe her.

Angel appeared next to them, he seemed oddly calm for someone who had just watched their best friend killed in a brutal death match. He took Cordelia off Wesley, and carried her back to their car, once he had sat down in the back seat he crouched in front of her and pushed her hair out of her face. 'Cordelia, look at me.' She carried on sobbing, so he reached out and pulled her chin upwards, 'He'll be fine Cordelia, he'll be fine.'

'How?' She continued to cry.

'Doyle's a Brachen demon,' the vampire told her.

Wesley inhaled sharply with sudden realisation 'of course!' he said, sounding almost triumphant. Through her tears, Cordelia threw him a dark look. 'We read it on the database yesterday, Cordelia' he explained to her. 'Brachen demons can snap all their joints out of place, including their neck and spine, and then _put them back together.'_ Angel nodded along, encouragingly.

Cordelia sniffed, and rubbed at her eyes and nose whilst she thought about this 'you mean he can just snap his neck back into place?' The two men nodded.

'He'll be unconscious for a while,' Angel told her, 'but he'll be fine once he's woken up.'

'So … he'll have to fight again?' she asked slowly. The men looked at each other. 'We need to find a way to get him out of there.'

'To do that, we'll need to get his wrist cuff off him first.' Wesley said, thinking through the problem with the academic rigour he had learned during his watcher's training. 'That will be no mean feat - they were forged by ancient sorcerers.'

'So get an ancient key,' Cordelia told him, as if it would be the easiest thing in the world.

'I might be able to make one myself,' the British man mused, 'if I could only get a good look at a one of the wrist cuffs, which won't be easy.' Angel pulled Vlasovik's bracelet out of his coat pocket and handed it to his friend. 'Unless Angel managed to steal one whilst we weren't looking,' Wesley finished up.

* * *

When Doyle finally woke up he found himself sitting in a comfortable leather chair in a large office. Someone had covered up his bloody, sweat stained tank top with a suit jacket, and the lightness on his left wrist told him the bracelet had been removed. He groaned and snapped his neck back into place. Now facing forwards, he found himself looking at a smartly dressed woman sitting behind a desk. It was the fight fan Angel had spoken to the night Doyle was taken.

'You're finally awake,' she said. Her voice was much kinder than McNamara's had been, when he had greeted Doyle after his last bout of unconsciousness. 'How do you feel?'

'Like someone snapped my neck in two.' He morphed back into his human face.

'Drink?' She pushed a tumbler of scotch towards him. He knew he shouldn't, he knew he shouldn't trust this woman and therefore he should not accept anything from her, but everything hurt. Places he didn't even know he had, hurt. So he took the drink, and swallowed it gratefully.

'Let me introduce myself,' the woman said, 'I'm Lilah Morgan.'

Doyle gazed around her office taking in the books that lined her bookshelves. 'A lawyer,' he concluded, there was a pause, 'Wolfram and Hart?'

'I'm an associate here. It took some arm twisting, but I managed to convince McNamara to sell your contract to me.'

'I'm human, you can't buy me.'

She threw her head back and laughed 'Oh, now, Mr. Doyle, we both know that isn't strictly true, now is it?' He glared at her. 'This isn't even the first time we've tried to buy you, Mr. Doyle, you must know that.' He nodded. He remembered who it was that had offered $15000 for his visions at Barney's auction.

'As I recall, you just bought my eyes and were planning to dump the rest of me. If that's what's on offer, I'll be heading back to the ring now, yeah?'

'Oh no, Mr. Doyle. As valuable as your assets are, there is an entirely different reason I've negotiated with The Senior Partners to have you brought into our little team.'

'There is?'

She walked around her desk to the front, so she was much closer to the half demon slumped in the chair. She perched on the edge of her desk and slowly crossed her long legs at the ankles. 'You're not the first curio I've acquired through Darin McNamara in recent months. You know that?'

Doyle shook his head, wondering where this was going. 'Oh yes,' she nodded, 'he procured a most interesting object for me: incredibly powerful, incredibly dangerous. We've had to store it in our highest security vault to ward against it falling into the wrong hands.' Doyle tilted his head on one side, this must be going somewhere, she hadn't rescued him out of the goodness of her heart, and the only thing of value he possessed were his visions, which she had flat out told him she was no longer interested in.

'It isn't the power that makes it interesting though', Lilah continued. 'When we got our Shamans to read it, they told us something very mysterious indeed. Our little curio should no longer exist. Its ending had been foretold, the only way it could survive is if a _very_ powerful higher being had intervened.' She looked dead at him. 'Do you know who the shamans said was supposed to have destroyed this object?'

Doyle was nonplussed, 'Angel?', he hazarded a guess.

She threw back her head and laughed once more. 'The caped crusader? Oh no, Mr. Doyle. Not Angel. _You_.'

'Me?' Doyle was sceptical. 'Lady I don't even know what y' talkin' about, and I'm pretty sure no higher power has ever intervened on my behalf.'

'So modest, Mr. Doyle, haven't you been chosen, out of all demonkind, to bear the visions? Pure sight is a very rare gift. Clearly there are people up there who have noticed you, is it so hard to imagine one of them likes you?'

Shot, battered, bruised, aching and in pain, it was pretty hard to imagine that anyone up there liked him, yes. Hell, only three people down here liked him. The higher powers had chosen him to bear the visions in order to punish him, not to honour him. He assumed that was why they hurt like hell.

'So what do you want with me, exactly?' he asked.

'Two things that are not meant to exist, that are inextricably linked? One alone is valuable, but together you're priceless. We won't lock you in high security storage, Mr. Doyle, we'll keep you around the offices, maybe in the mail room. Your soul will belong to us, but you won't have to fight … you'll live. Heck, you might live forever, round here, who knows?'

Doyle gave her a hard look. 'Is that all?'

She wobbled her head as if she were weighing her options '...plus it'll really piss off that vampire you run with,' she admitted.

'No deal, lady. I'd like to go back now.'

'If you go back, you'll die.'

'I'll take my chances. Thanks for the drink.'

He got out of his seat and removed the jacket she had covered him with. Two of McNamara's lackeys were waiting with cattle prods. 'It's alright,' Doyle said, 'I'll come quietly.'

* * *

As he headed back to the arena, he felt his memory go into fast forward. He hadn't thought about what had happened whilst he'd been at Wolfram and Hart, he had needed to stay focused, to keep his wits about him, as he had spoken to Lilah. But, returning in the car, he remembered the slash of Baker's knife and the pain in his arm, so close to his gunshot wound. He remembered the feel of his spikes as they had forced their way through the surface of his skin, and the roar of the crowd as he was finally exposed as the demon he was so desperately pretending not to be. And then he remembered the chocolate brown eyes of Cordelia as she seen him properly for the first time, and the horror he had read in them, even from that distance. The blow that had broken his neck had been almost merciful at that point. But he was sure, even though it couldn't be so, not over the noise of that crowd, that as he had blacked out he'd heard Cordelia's scream of anger and disgust.

* * *

Wesley had spent the night translating ancient texts, looking to find a way to make a key that would unlock the stolen wrist cuff. 'We need something that conducts electricity, but not too much,' he told his companions. 'This cuff is half magic, half medieval technology. We just need ..' he approached the cuff with a wire. Angel intercepted him.

'Perhaps I should be the one that does the testing? I'm less breakable than the pair of you.' Acquiescing to this request, with no small amount of relief, Wesley handed the wire to Angel. The Vampire touched the wire to the cuff. There was a sudden explosion and he was blown across the room.

'Are you OK?' squealed Cordelia, running over to him.

'Maybe we need something that conducts a little less electricity', Angel told Wesley.

* * *

Doyle walked back into the demon barracks. As he crossed the red line, a guard snapped his wrist cuff back on him.

'You were dead,' Baker accused him. 'They better not take you off my kill count, I killed you.'

'Sorry?' Doyle answered, 'next time make sure y' stab me as well?'

Darin walked into the room, he sneered when he saw Doyle there. 'So, you came back? Do you think that makes you special? Do you think you're more human because you turned down Wolfram and Hart's generous offer?'

'Between this and an eternity in Wolfram and Hart's mail room … I'll take this, bud.'

'Shut your mouth, slave!' one of the guards yelled at him, charging his cattle prod, hoping for a chance to use it,

'Relax, Steven,' Darin told the guard. Then he approached the edge of the red line so he was face to face with Doyle, only the width of the stripe apart. 'You're gonna regret this choice, Francis. Tonight we're putting you up against Trepkos. You only survived the last bout on a technicality, that won't work for you again. You'll be Trepkos' 21st kill. Once he's done you, he walks out of here a free man … haha, well, a free monster. You won't see tomorrow, little buddy. An object lesson in not getting into too much debt, huh?'

Doyle didn't know why he did it, what possessed him. But he morphed into his demon spikes and headbutted McNamara across the line. Darin clutched at his face where he'd been gouged and Steve, the guard, hit Doyle with the cattle prod. He was electrocuted into unconsciousness, but they made sure he was awake in time for the fight...

* * *

The bracelet was held in a vise. Angel held a stick in a pair of pliers and very carefully prodded the bracelet with it. Nothing happened. Wesley and Cordelia stuck their heads out from behind a pillar. 'It's too thick,' Angel told them.

'I don't know what else to try.' Wesley said.

'We need to think of something!' Cordelia exclaimed. 'Tick tock, boys, Doyle needs us!'

'What is there to use?' Wesley asked. 'We need something supple enough to thread the locking mechanism, but strong enough to spring the release.' They all looked at each other in hopelessness and then:

'Horsehair!'

'Horsehair?' the men asked in unison.

Cordelia nodded. She took off her own bracelet and slid out something from inside it, 'from my Palomino, Keanu, before the IRS took him away.'

Angel took the hair and tentatively approached the bracelet. Cordelia and Wesley dove for cover back behind the pillar.

Once there, Wesley decided it was time to give her some fatherly advice. 'Cordelia, I don't wish to be indecorous, or to pry where it isn't my place.' She looked at him, only half understanding what he was saying 'But, knowing what we now know about Doyle, I must advise that you think twice before entering into any sort of romantic or exclusive relationship with him.'

'What?'

'He is a demon, Cordelia, a fact he has chosen to hide from you, one of his closest friends. There can be no good explanation for that, no excuse. This misadventure clearly shows he is more dangerous than we have been led to believe.'

_'What?'_

'He betrayed Angel to the McNamaras. Angel escaped, but Doyle is still to blame for his own current predicament. He isn't to be trusted. If he can endanger Angel's life then so too can he endanger yours. You mustn't let your fondness for him blind you to the reality of what he is.'

'Doyle would never betray Angel!' Cordelia said outraged, 'and he'd never hurt me.'

...

Over on the table, Angel cautiously approached the wrist cuff and jabbed it with the horsehair. There was a crackling sound and the bracelet sprung open.

'Aha!' Wesley was jubilant.

Angel turned to face his hiding staff. 'You're both wrong' he said, they looked confused. 'About Doyle.' They still looked confused. 'Vampire hearing', Angel explained.

'Oh'

'Of course.'

'Cordelia, you're wrong, Doyle did betray me to Darin McNamara, but he changed his mind and he's paying the price for it now. And Wesley, you're wrong. It isn't the demon that means Doyle can't be trusted, it isn't the demon that made him do deals with people like McNamara in the first place. Doyle has made a lot of mistakes, which he isn't proud of, and he's trying to put things right. He suffered a setback when Cordelia got pregnant and he had to do shady deals to save her life. My life for hers, that was the price he paid, and he's reneged on that and is paying himself. Now it's our job to save him, the way he saved me and Cordelia. And he's been trying to tell Cordelia about his demon half for months, things just keep getting in the way. Let's go.'

And the three of them went out into the night to rescue their friend.


	32. The Ring: Part Four

Lilah arrived at the arena. The sign outlined the fights for that evening: Grador vs Siru and Doyle vs Trepkos. She winced a little as she read that, the little half demon really ought to have taken her up on her offer. But her sympathy did not extend far. Once she got up to the betting counter, she lay down her money. '$10000 on Trepkos', she told the bookie. He made the bet and she went inside.

* * *

The pit was empty, save for the announcer, who spoke into the suspended microphone, introducing tonight's fighters as the crowd filed into place. 'Tonight's match features one of our recent acquisitions, one of the new boys of the ring and the only fighter we have to make it to his second night without a kill under his belt! He's half Brachen demon and one prickly customer, for the second night in a row, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Doyle!'

Doyle walked up the slope out of the barracks and into the ring. He was still sore from the night before and from all the multiple electrocutions he had suffered in the previous couple of days. He wore his demon face this time, he didn't see the point in not - the crowd would never see him as one of them, no matter what he did, he wasn't a man to them. And Cordelia had seen, anyhow, so there was no point in hiding anymore. Battered and bruised and aching, as he was, his demon form made everything hurt just a little bit less. And as this was almost certainly going to prove to be his last ten minutes on earth, if he was lucky, he didn't see the point in making them more painful than they had to be. Besides, what did he care who saw him now that Cordelia knew?

It was her that he thought of as he entered into the ring. He wondered what she had been doing there last night, and how much she hated him right now. He supposed she was disgusted by his demon half, the way he always knew she would be; angry at his having lied to her and probably furious that he had tried to betray Angel. He wondered if she would be sad when she heard that he died, or if she would just be glad to know that he'd gone. As much as she would never forgive him, he still hoped that she would feel some sadness over all that they had shared together, that she might grieve for the man that she had thought he was, even if she would never forgive the demon he had turned out to be.

He thought of her smile and her laugh and the way she was absolutely fearless even in the face of unmitigated evil. In over four years, she was the first person to make him feel like a human being, and he would always love her for that, even if there weren't a million other reasons to be madly in love with her. He should have been more honest with her, she was always honest with him. It wouldn't have changed the way things had ended up, but at least she wouldn't be left wondering if all their time together had been a lie.

He also thought of Angel, regretting more than anything in his life that he had ever agreed to go along with Darin McNamara's plan. The vampire was the best friend he had ever had, and even though Doyle had been sent to guide Angel, he felt that it was Angel who had ended up guiding him, saving his soul, like any other one of the hopeless that he helped. He wished he could say sorry. He hoped that the vampire was wise enough to realise how sorry he was. There was a chance Angel would forgive him quicker than Cordelia. Angel had over 200 years worth of worldly experience and knew first hand how easy it was to screw up. Angel might not be angry with him for long. But he still wished he could say sorry.

Lastly, he thought of Wesley, desperately trying to earn his place in their team, determined to prove himself. Well, now he could feel secure in not being the biggest screw up of Angel Investigations. He'd look after the other two, Doyle knew, he'd always be there for them and they would always be able to count on him, in a way they could never have counted on Doyle. Their team had started out as a close knit three, and now it would be returning to one... And Wesley was an admirable replacement.

...

The announcer introduced Trepkos, the crowd went wild; and the big demon, with 20 kills under his belt, and only a few minutes and a short fight standing between him and freedom, walked into the ring. The bigger demon looked at his opponent, so vulnerable and frail looking in his blood stained tank top, just like Malish the night before. 'I'll make it quick', he promised. In his mind, Doyle said his final goodbyes to his family. Then the bell rang. Trepkos pounced...

* * *

Angel and his team had broken in through the basement window again. Cordelia had fretted when she'd seen the fight lineup on the board and Angel had promised her that he would get Doyle out before he came to any more harm. The two humans made their way upwards, ring side, hoping to keep an eye on what was going on, praying that Grador and Siru were up first.

Angel made his way downwards, towards the barracks. He walked down a seedy looking corridor and encountered a guard standing in front of a big, locked door. 'Excuse me, sir!' the guard shouted at him as he approached, 'you're not meant to be down here.'

'Gosh, I'm sorry. I must have got turned around looking for the little boys' room. It not down here?'

The guard shook his head, Angel threw a punch and the man crumpled. Angel kicked down the door and continued onward until he found himself at another locked door beside a barred window. The window looked into the room with the demon cells, and Angel could see groups of demons huddled at the far end, looking like they were watching the fight. But he couldn't see Doyle.

He didn't have time for this.

He kicked down this next door and then used his vampire speed to get up behind the demons before they were aware of him. He grabbed the nearest one, a lizard looking creature, in a headlock and vamped out. 'I'm looking for Doyle,' he snarled, 'anyone know where he is.'

'Dead' the Lizard, Cribb, said.

'What?' Angel choked Cribb all the harder

'Well, he will be in a minute. He's fighting Trepkos.'

'OK, minions of hell, I'm going to do you a deal. You're all going to help me rescue Doyle, and then I'm going to set you all free. Capiche?'

* * *

Up at the ringside, things were not looking good. Doyle was doing everything he could to stay out of the way of Trepkos' mighty fists, ducking and weaving and dodging; hoping that the larger, slower demon might tire quicker. But he was in such a poor state to start with that Doyle, himself, was fading pretty fast. But he knew better than to stay still and try and land a blow; he was a bantamweight and Trepkos was a heavy. It would never work. His only hope was to keep moving.

He misjudged his timing and one of Trepkos' massive fists glanced off his head; he fell to the floor but immediately rolled and got back up again, breathing heavily. His mouth was bleeding, but there was nothing he could do to stem the flow, and so he just continued to fight through the pain.

* * *

Cordelia leaned over the side, 'Oh my goodness,' she squealed, 'that's him isn't it? The scary, ugly hedgehog! That's Doyle. He can't last much longer, Wesley. We need to do something!'

'We will,' Wesley scanned the room...

* * *

The crowd were starting to get riled up as they scented encroaching death, they started up with their chant: 'killing blow killing blow.'

Darin McNamara signalled some of his guards and two wooden staffs, with sharpened tips, were dropped into the ring. Doyle picked his up, glancing upwards. He saw Lilah Morgan stood, watching, right next to Darin. He turned away. No time to regret his decisions now. Besides, this wasn't too bad, this was a weapon he knew how to handle, he'd done some serious damage with pool cues throughout his short life. He spun it in his hands and then used all his demon strength to thwack Trepkos. The bigger demon returned the hit in kind, but Doyle raised his own staff to bar the blow. Trepkos' staff ricocheted against Doyle's and then splintered under the force of the impact. The big demon was left holding a splintered stump, Doyle was still fully armed.

* * *

Wesley and Cordelia had sidled their way up to the two McNamara brothers, who were fully engaged watching the fight. The British man drew out the gun he had used to shoot at the Haxil beast. He grabbed Jack McNamara by the throat, from behind, and pointed the gun at his head. 'Stop this fight now, please' Wesley demanded, but ever so courteously. Darin McNamara snorted and returned his gaze to the ring. Wesley cocked his gun. People began to edge away as they realised what was happening. 'Come on now, Mr. McNamara, there is only one way out of this situation, he is your brother.'

Darin took out a gun of his own and casually shot Jack in the head: 'now he's my dead brother.' He put the gun back in his pocket. People began to clear the room in earnest. Wesley dropped the dead body with a high pitched shriek of disgust, but Cordelia grabbed his arm and forced it to level the pistol at the surviving McNamara brother. 'Listen here, you little weasel, you're going to stop this fight, right now!' she demanded.

* * *

In the ring, Trepkos launched himself at Doyle, brandishing the jagged remains of his staff. He landed on top of the half demon and thrust the splinter into his side and twisted. Doyle screamed. The crowd, the ones who hadn't witnessed Jack's murder, roared with pleasure. Then, the doors leading to the demon barracks burst open and every one of the gladiators rushed through into the ring. They were no longer wearing their wrist cuffs.

...

In the ensuing melee the rest of the crowd melted into nothingness, leaving the ring behind without a backwards glance. Lilah was one of the last to leave. Darin threw a punch at Wesley, knocking him to the ground. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at the watcher. He should have paid more attention to Cordelia. She launched herself forward and pushed him straight down into the pit. The two human members of team Angel were left all alone at the top of the ring.

...

Meanwhile, inside the pit, the fight had finally been interrupted by the swarm of rampaging demons. Angel was amongst them, and he immediately threw himself down at Doyle's side and supported the smaller man into a sitting position. 'Try not to move,' he told him, 'I'll try to stop the bleeding.'

'Angel, man … you came...' Doyle couldn't believe it. He wasn't entirely convinced that the last stab hadn't finished him off, and this was just some hallucination forming in his dying brain.

'Of course we came', Angel said, removing his own shirt. Doyle frowned. He didn't know why the death throes of his mind would conjure up images of a half naked, stripping, Angel; he didn't really feel that way about him, he was sure of it,

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, his speech was beginning to slur. 'I want you to know … I'm glad I got to say it, man. I'm sorry.'

'I know you are,' Angel said, ripping his shirt into strips, 'and you don't have to talk that way because you're going to be fine.' The vampire packed a wad of his shirt into Doyle's stab wound and then tied it in place with the strips he had torn. The bleeding began to slow. 'It's not as good as Cordelia can do, but she'll patch you up back at the office, you're going to be fine.' He then put his coat back on over his bare chest and, finally, used the horsehair key to unlock Doyle's wrist cuff.

...

Darin had landed in the ring with the demon fighters, seething in fury. 'How dare you do this, slaves! You'll pay, you'll all pay, you'll fight 'til you die from here on out.' He felt something lock around his wrist and glanced down at the bracelet now sitting there, and then up into the face of Cribb. 'We are no longer slaves', Cribb told him and then threw the human towards Trepkos. Trepkos pitched him over the red line, and Darin McNamara disintegrated into dust.

* * *

The team had got back to Angel's apartment. The watcher and the vampire were in the kitchen, drinking tea. 'It was a good thing you did tonight, Angel', Wesley told him, 'freeing all those captives.'

'Yeah … but … I actually freed a whole bunch of demons.'

'Oh...well, technically, yes.'

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle were in Angel's bedroom. Doyle was unconscious on the bed and Cordelia was cleaning and bandaging his various wounds. Her hands were gentle and her eyes were sad. When she was finished, she packed away her first aid kit and quietly made her way to the door.

'Hey, Cordelia?'

She turned back, Doyle was obviously not as out of it as he'd seemed, and he was struggling to sit himself up on the bed. She waited until he'd propped himself against the pillows and stopped fidgeting.

'Thanks for patching me up,' he said.

'It's what I do.'

'I'm sorry.'

'I know.'

'How much do you hate me?'

She twisted her mouth into a worried frown, 'I don't hate you … I just don't understand.'

'I wanted to tell y',' he said, not quite meeting her eye, 'I was afraid.'

'You thought I'd reject you?'

He shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again. 'At first, I thought … but as time went on … I realised you'd be more mad that I'd kept a secret than you would be about the content o' the secret. I really did try to tell you, a few times.'

'I guess I'm not always the easiest person to talk to.'

His head snapped up, and he met her eyes at last 'This isn't your fault! It's all me.'

'Duh!'

He smiled at that, and then looked like he wished he hadn't. His face had taken such a battering that it hurt to smile.

'I am a little hurt,' she confessed, 'I can't believe you'd think I'd care about that.'

'It's true ... it's just…'

'I'm not that superficial!'

'It isn't superficial to want to be with someone that's the same species as y' Cordelia, I imagine that's a prerequisite on most people's lists, yeah?'

'But I'm from _Sunnydale_ , everyone I know has dated a demon at some point. You should know by now, Allen Francis Doyle, that Cordelia Chase is not most people.'

He looked like he wanted to smile again, but he managed only a pained grimace. 'I would have thought you, of all people, would have had enough close encounters with monsters to rule out dating one. Human men all the way, isn't that what you said?'

She smiled sadly and went and sat down beside him on the bed, she picked up his hand and held it in both of her own. 'You are _not_ a monster, Doyle. You can't help being half demon and I would never not want to be with you because of that. Demons don't have to be bad … I mean, sure, I've been attacked by more vampires than I can count, I was kidnapped by a vampire cult and hung upside down ready to be bled out to resurrect their master. And then there was that one time, on homecoming night, when I was hunted through the forest by a whole load of different demons. Oh! And the time I was enslaved by a baby bezoar and had to work under the school collecting bezoar eggs. And I've been attacked by werewolves and zombies and fish monsters and hellhounds, but y'know? I still don't think demons are all bad.'

'You're more forgiving than me, then Cordy, 'cause that all sounds pretty terrible.'

'It was,' she admitted, 'all of it. But you know what else was terrible? The time two human boys kidnapped me and tried to cut my head off so they could sew it onto this jigsaw puzzle woman they were building out of dead girl parts, so I could be a bride of Frankenstein to a reanimated corpse. And the time I was kidnapped by human frat boys, and drugged, so that they could chain me up in the basement and feed me to their demon overlord.'

'You sure do get kidnapped a lot, Cordelia.'

She smiled, but she continued as if he hadn't interrupted. 'And the absolute worst time was when I had my heart broken by a human boy, who I'd given everything that I held dear up for, who I really thought I might love, and he cheated on me. Plus I then got impaled on a rebar…' She shook her head to get back on track. 'My point is, evil isn't limited to demons and good isn't a universal trait in humans. You can be a demon and still be good, Doyle. And your being a demon doesn't mean I don't want to go out with you.'

'It doesn't?' He couldn't believe …

'I'm still not going to go out with you.'

'Oh.'

She squeezed his hand. 'I'm not saying 'never', I'm saying 'not now.' You're a mess, Doyle, you drink too much, you gamble too much, you get in trouble with dangerous people and you hate yourself. You need to sort all that out before you're ready to be with me. I won't be your crutch, that isn't fair on me. And it won't help you in the long run. Once your life is in order, we'll talk.'

'What if I don't know how to get my life in order?'

She smiled her big, bright smile at him, 'luckily for you, I always know best and I'm here to help.'

'You are?'

'Uhuh, Doyle? Have you ever seen those commercials where they tell you to consolidate all your little loans into one big loan?' He nodded. 'Well, I've been making decent money with my 'Stain Be Gone' acting and modelling and I'm going to give what I've earned to you.' He started to protest, she held up a hand, 'strictly as a loan, buddy, and I mean that. You'll pay me back every last red cent. But you can use that money to pay off all your old creditors and you'll know that you won't get your legs broken if you fall behind on your payments … mostly because Angel won't let me.'

Doyle laughed at that part and then regretted it immediately, as the pain in his chest intensified.

'It's a clean start for you, no more debt, you can then call up every guy in your book every time we need info, and pay them for it with company money, because you won't have to hide from them anymore. You'll be more use to the team. Once you've paid off all your guys then you start paying me back, and once you're done … then maybe you can take me out for dinner in celebration.'

He smiled broadly, ignoring the pain, but he had to object. 'I can't take your money, princess.'

'Oh, I'm not giving you a choice. This is your test Doyle, pass it and there could well be a future for us … fail it … and... I'll know.'

'Know what?'

'That it doesn't matter how much I like you, you're not the type of man any self respecting woman should get involved with. Get this right, Doyle. For both of us.'

He nodded.

'I'll let you get some rest,' she said. He lay back down, and she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the room.

...

For all that he was in the most horrendous agony, Doyle was a very content half demon as he drifted off to sleep that night. Cordelia liked him, and he was being given a second chance. He could get his life back in order. Everything was going to be OK.

* * *


	33. Eternity: Part One

'Maybe we can make a break for it?'

'Impossible.'

'Front door?'

'We'd be spotted instantly.'

'Back door?'

Wesley glanced around in desperation ,'blocked.'

'This is it then.' The vampire sighed with resignation, 'we're trapped.'

The British man looked around at the empty seats that surrounded them, 'maybe we could try shouting 'fire' it's not exactly a crowded theatre.'

The two of them were in the small auditorium that seated the audience for a late night, non network cheesy chat show that aired only on local cable. The host was a past it hack that lacked even basic charm and was unremittingly unfunny. Every joke he cracked, a light would illuminate for the few people watching: 'laugh' 'applause' and they would manfully do their best, but this was interminable. Unfortunately for them, Cordelia had been invited onto the show to do a 'Stain Be Gone' skit, with the host playing the part of her boyfriend, and she had been given two guest tickets. Doyle was still recuperating from his time in the gladiator ring, and so Wesley and Angel were dismayed to find that they would have the dubious honour of attending her live T.V debut. The best thing that could be said for it was that, buried away on basic cable as it was, hardly anybody would ever see it; but this was little consolation to the two men forced to sit through the live performance.

The punchlines were unfunny, painfully so, but after each one the host would turn and grin at the camera or wink at the audience. Cordelia's lines were stilted and generic, she was just there to be the witless foil of the host, though she had been dressed up in a way that they would never use in the real commercials; a tight corset, mini skirt and stilettos that left very little to the imagination. The host kept touching her unnecessarily too, the sleazoid; though Cordelia seemed not to mind, so delighted was she that she was famous enough to be invited onto a chat show, even one as crummy as this.

'It's OK, honey', she was saying, throwing her all into it. 'Stain Be Gone gets rid of even the most stubborn stains, here,' she started unbuttoning the host's shirt.

'I knew you couldn't wait to get my clothes off me,' the host said, winking at the audience.

'Now honey, your folks will be here any minute.'

'But what can't we do in that minute?' Grin

Angel groaned, and shut his eyes. He lost track of what was meant to be happening and, when he reopened them, the host had pushed Cordelia down onto a table and was climbing on top of her. Angel began to suspect that the chat show host had invited her on specifically so he could do this. Perhaps it was a good thing that Doyle was still too weak to leave the house.

2 people dressed up as elderly folks walked onto the stage and gasped, scandalised at seeing the two people on top of the table.

'Mom, dad!' the host exclaimed.

'It's OK,' Cordelia told them. 'I was just demonstrating the wonders of Stain Be Gone.'

'Oh yes' said the 'mom' 'that's what your father and I need 'Stain Be Gone' for, as well'. The stage was suddenly lit with UV lighting, making their teeth shine out freakishly, but highlighting the stain free shirt.

'You heard it here folks,' the host said, climbing off Cordelia and winking at the audience ''Stain Be Gone' can get rid of even the stubbornest _spunkiest_ stains.'

Wesley grimaced in distaste. The skit was over, but they were still trapped watching this horrible little man until the cameras stopped rolling.

'And I thought I knew eternity,' Angel sighed.

* * *

Doyle switched the T.V off. He was still at Angel's place, though he had the bed this time as he was the invalid, and Cordelia had insisted on rolling the television into the bedroom so that he could catch her performance, even if he couldn't be there in person. She'd also made him tape it, and had fished out the old cassette that she used to tape all of her commercials.

He wasn't sure what he thought of the performance. Cordelia was basically just background and the star of the show was about as unlikable as a person could be … and that final joke … he twisted his face. But she would want to know what he had thought and he needed something positive to tell her, that didn't centre on how amazing her rack had looked in that corset. Not that that was what he'd been looking at, of course, but he did have eyes. He decided he had better watch it again, to better critique her performance, and so he flipped the switch on the T.V and video recorder and went through the painful process once more.

'...stubbornest, _spunkiest_ stains,' the host grinned and the show cut out, where Doyle had thankfully stopped recording. The video went the fuzzy grey that blank tape always did and he thought carefully about compliments he could pay Cordelia in the morning. He was quite surprised when the fuzzy blankness off the tape changed suddenly and cut to himself, standing in the office, looking nervous as he spoke to camera: 'Is that it? Am I done?'

* * *

'So, what did you think?' Cordelia quizzed her two friends as they walked back through town. The two men exchanged a look.

'Well … your projection was excellent,' Wesley said.

'Yeah,' agreed Angel, with forced enthusiasm. 'I could hear every word and we were way back.'

'That was the microphones, silly!' she said. 'Was I any good?'

'You are the 'Stain Be Gone' girl,' Wesley told her, 'you take that role and you make it your own.'

'Yeah?' she sounded pleased. 'Angel, was I good?'

'I wouldn't say it if I didn't think it.'

'Thanks - hey! You didn't say it!'

'I didn't?'

But Cordelia had spotted something across the road and was no longer interested in the amateur opinions of her colleagues. 'I don't believe it!'

'Well, it was a night of live television we'll never forget,' Angel told her kindly, but she wasn't listening.

'That's Oliver Simon,' she exclaimed, pointing at a small, middle aged, grey haired man who wore a black turtleneck and small spectacles.

'Who?'

'Only one of the most important talent managers in town. I was at a party with him one time.' She turned to her vampire boss, 'you were there', she told him.

'Oh yeah… he gave me his card.'

'Excuse me? I was working him all night and he gave _you_ his card?'

'He thought I had certain … qualities.'

'Look who's he's with!' Cordelia grew even more excited as she caught sight of the serious star power accompanying their manager. 'It's Rebecca Lowell!'

'Who?' Wesley, who could identify the rarest of demons from the briefest of descriptions, had no idea what that name meant.

'Raven!' Cordelia explained in annoyance. 'She played Raven on 'On Your Own.' It was a hit T.V show for, like, nine and a half years... until the stupid network went and cancelled it. I was going to picket … but I didn't have any comfortable shoes. You guys have really, never heard of Raven? Do you even own a television?'

'There's one in the office', Angel said defensively. He went quiet as he watched a car drive slowly down the street, watching it- all his sense alert - as it seemingly headed for the famous actress. With a sudden burst of his his vampire speed, he jumped over the car parked next to him in a single bound and pushed Rebecca out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. She rolled clear, unhurt, but Angel smashed against the windscreen and was thrown over the roof. He landed in the street behind. Cordelia and Wesley hurried over to pick him up.

Oliver Simon was fussing over his injured starlet, but she assured him she was fine - sounding slightly irritated by his attentions. There was something she was suddenly more interested in than the fact she had got dust from the street on her clothes. She turned away from her manager and approached her mysterious saviour. 'Excuse me', she said, 'are you alright?'

Angel said nothing, but that was OK - Cordy was more than happy to fill in the silence. 'Oh, he's fine', she assured her idol, happily - her smile as big and bright as it went. 'it was such an honour saving your life Ms. Lowell.'

'Thanks.' The actress looked at the other young woman uncertainly, before turning back to Angel. 'I didn't catch your name.'

'Cordelia Chase', Cordelia told her, and then, 'oh… you mean him? He doesn't even know who you are!'

This intrigued Rebecca. 'You don't know me?'

Oliver approached from behind, 'sure he doesn't, he'll still accept a reward though, I'm sure.' He fished in his wallet, taking out a handful of twenties.

'No thanks', Angel refused - the first he had spoken since he got hit by the car.

'We're not going to be held up here', the little man said.

'Down, Oliver. He doesn't know me.'

'He's culturally backwards that way,' supplemented Cordelia, helpfully.

There was a sudden flash as a camera went off behind them. The famous actress groaned, when she saw it. 'Who called E.T'

'Emma Thompson?' Wesley looked around in excitement

'Entertainment Tonight', Cordelia hissed.

'They're here for the party,' Oliver told Rebecca 'This'll be all over the tabloids by tomorrow, we better talk to them first, put our spin on it.'

Rebecca sighed deeply and then nodded, before she left she turned back to Angel and was surprised to see that he had disappeared from sight. Cordelia looked round too. 'Oh, he does that' she explained. 'But here's our card, call us if you ever need anything, day or night.'

The actress and her manager went to go talk to the press and Wesley and Cordelia followed their boss homeward, into the night.

* * *

The next day, the three men were in the office. Doyle was lying out on the green sofa, still recuperating, Wesley was behind the desk, looking through a book and Angel stood by the filing cabinet, trying to work out Cordelia's system. 'So was it OK? I mean live, did it look any better?' Doyle was asking.

'I spent 300 years in a hell dimension', Angel told him, 'and even I struggled.'

'Well, we gotta say something nice.'

Cordelia burst through the front door.

'Here's our star, now' Doyle said, putting more enthusiasm than he really felt into his voice. Not that he wasn't enthusiastic about Cordelia - or her career ... but pretending last night had been anything but a disaster was going to require him to test his own acting chops. 'I taped it just like you said to.'

But Cordelia had no time for him. 'I made the front page,' she announced gleefully. The three men frowned at each other and Doyle struggled to sit up.

'There was a reviewer from the times at 'Talk nights with Billy Cassidy'?' Wesley asked in astonishment.

'Pfft, why would anyone go to see that sleaze ball? No! The thing with Rebecca Lowell, I'm in the picture.' She waved the photograph at the three men, who all craned to see where she was. They frowned down as they struggled to spot Cordy.

'Is that your elbow?' Doyle asked, eventually.

'Damn skippy!'

Angel sighed deeply. 'Guys, can we just forget about the whole Rebecca Lowell thing? We ran into an actor, it's Hollywood, it happens.'

'You guys ran into Rebecca Lowell?' Doyle sounded simultaneously annoyed and impressed. 'How come no one told me?'

'Broody boy did his disappearing act and refused to talk to her,' Cordelia informed him.

'Look, we have a nice photo of Cordelia's … elbow and an article about how I saved a T.V star from getting run down. Let's not make a big deal about this … just because the papers …'

'It doesn't mention you', said Wesley, scanning the article.

'What? Let me see that!' Angel swiped the newspaper out of the watcher's hands.

'Not a word', Wesley told him.

'Oh...well… that's a good thing, right? The whole high profile thing is not really our ..' he trailed off. Doyle smiled at him sympathetically.

'Are you kidding?' Cordelia asked ''On Your Own' was cancelled a season and half ago, that's like forever in T.V times. We need to use this before Rebecca Lowell is just another washed up …'

The door opened and Rebecca Lowell walked in. Cordelia quit talking immediately. She frowned at Doyle, where he was lounging, and the injured man correctly interpreted her displeasure and struggled to his feet.

'Can I offer you something?' Cordelia asked, once she was satisfied that all her colleagues looked respectable, or respectable adjacent in Doyle's case, 'Tea, Coffee? We don't have anything good here, but one of the interns,' she waved in Doyle and Wesley's direction, 'will be happy to …'

'No, Thanks,' said Rebecca, and then, turning to Angel, 'Can we talk?'

Angel nodded and began to lead her through to his private office. 'Stay,' Rebecca said to her bodyguard. 'Stay' Angel said to Cordelia.

* * *

Inside his office, Angel shut the blinds.

'You're not fond of sunshine?'

'Night time person.'

'Me too … it makes it easier to hide. You really never saw a single episode of 'On Your Own'?'

'Uh -no'

'You'll have to stop over some time, I can give you a private screening of the episode I _didn't_ win an Emmy for.'

'Thanks for the invitation - why are you … is there a reason you're here?'

Rebecca threw a whole load of notes down on the desk. 'They're written in blood, crazy stuff, threatening ... I have a whole load of them at home.'

'It's not blood.'

'Oh ... well... That's comforting to know. Most of my adoring fans are harmless, but …'

'Why haven't you taken this to the Police?' the vampire wanted to know.

'Oliver is on at me to, but that's just an invite to have the whole story leaked to the press. I'm up for a new series, a make or break kind of deal. I want peace of mind.'

'I can't help you...'

...

'Are you insane?' Cordelia could be clearly heard shrieking from the other side of the window, where she had been peering through the blinds. Doyle grabbed a hold of her and ushered her onto the sofa. He held her in place and she threw dark and furious glances at him, but he was unrepentant and only smiled at her indignation.

...

The two people in the private office delicately pretended there had been no interruption. 'I got the information on the car that ran you down, ran the plates,' Angel told her. 'It was stolen. Here are the details. Give this to your people, they'll find the guy, you don't need me.'

Rebecca nodded and took the information he proffered, glancing down at it. Then she left the office, disappointed, and Angel sat down behind his desk to brood...

* * *

His brooding was interrupted, only seconds after Rebecca had left, by Cordelia bursting through his door in high dudgeon. Doyle chased after her, he should never have let go of her once the actress had left. Wesley followed on behind, he leaned against the door and watched the scene unfold: the angry girl, the brooding vampire and the half demon trying to mediate between the two of them, consoling Cordy, whilst commiserating with his boss.

'My first big Hollywood connection!' ranted Cordelia, 'and you practically threw her out of the office. Have you never even heard of networking?'

'Cordelia, please!' Doyle tried to catch hold of her again and lead her away, but she brushed him off and continued with her pacing.

'No! He can fight donkey demons who rip people's guts out, but he won't defend one helpless actress from a psycho? What's your damage?' she demanded of the vampire.

'He likes her,' Wesley said from the doorway, 'he's afraid of getting too close.'

Angel looked up at him, surprised that Wesley - of everyone - had understood what he was feeling, but grateful to not have to say it himself, nevertheless.

Cordelia stopped her pacing and Doyle, who had been following her, still trying to calm her down and move her away, bumped straight into her.

'Ow'

' _OW!'_ she threw the half demon a disgusted look and then glanced uncertainly between Wesley and Angel. 'Because of his curse?' she asked, then she shook her head and snorted, 'he'd have to get pretty damn close for that to activate. And in the meantime he can be helping _me_.'

'The person here who needs help is Ms. Lowell', Wesley reminded her sternly.

'Right.' She turned to Angel, 'you could help us both, think of the Karma!'

'This might not be the best case for him, Cordy,' Doyle reasoned 'we don't wanna risk a leather pants scenario, yeah?' Angel looked at him, confused. 'Evil', Doyle explained. Angel nodded.

'Perhaps we can find someone else to help her', suggested Wesley, 'maybe Kate?'

But Cordelia was not interested in allowing someone else to sneak in and steal her big Hollywood connection. This was their case, she wanted it. She slapped Doyle around the back of the head: 'ow, what was that for?' He asked, indignantly.

'Now would be a really great time for you to get a vision of Rebecca in trouble, buddy.' But he stayed resolutely vision free, and Cordelia threw up her hands in disgust. 'Fine! I'll miss out on my one brush with fame because Mr. Distance has intimacy issues. That's just great.'

Doyle eventually managed to get hold of her elbow and start gently dragging her from the room. Angel sighed in relief. 'You know, you're really not doing too badly on your own, darlin', you got quite the little career for yourself goin' on with those commercials and whatnot,' the vampire heard his friend telling the frustrated Cordelia, in soothing tones. She harrumphed, noisily, but she sounded a little mollified. Thank Goodness for Doyle. The vampire settled back down to enjoy his brooding session.

* * *

Rebecca, however, was unable to wallow in her disappointment, the way Angel wallowed in his introspection. She was hosting a fabulous Hollywood party and she had to sparkle, problems be damned! Half the cast of 'On Your Own' were there, alongside some of the members of '90210' and 'Party of Five'. Not Neve or Jennifer though; the slasher movies they had landed made them far too big to attend a T.V party. What Rebecca wouldn't give to be chased through a house by a ravening psychopath out for blood. That was where all the big money was these days, but she was too old, she knew, to land a role in a teenage slasher flick.

2 ridiculously fresh faced girls stood near the bar, downing shots. Rebecca couldn't remember their names but she knew they were from some new teenage drama about a kid that lived by a river, or a creek, or something. She watched as they giggled their way through their drinks, downing one and then demanding another. She remembered being them, and she wondered where they would be in ten years time. Would they, too, find that your career ended when your show did, and you would be forever haunted by the younger version of yourself, preserved on celluloid? Or would they make it to the real big time: movie success and movie star husbands?

As the night wore on, the party emptied out; Jason left, Scott left and the two girls staggered out supporting each other, still laughing, until at last, Rebecca was just one person left all alone, inside her mansion.


	34. Eternity: Part Two

Doyle and Cordelia were down in Angel's bedroom. Doyle was lying back on the bed, propped up on the pillows and Cordelia was examining his stab wound. 'It's nearly healed', she said, as she changed the bandages. 'But, you know, it would have healed a lot quicker if you'd gone to the emergency room and got stitches.'

'We don't have the insurance, darlin'.'

'I think I could have covered you for some stitches!'

'Well, I shouldn't really go to real hospitals anyway, it isn't safe for me.'

'Oh. Because of the scary, ugly hedgehog thing?'

'Pretty much, the doctors might spot some unexplainable anomalies in my labs. I've heard rumours that the government like to collect and experiment on people of my persuasion.'

'Irish?'

He laughed. 'Demon,' he clarified. 'I don't know if it's true, but officialdom is something I'm keen to avoid, yeah?'

'If you say so, but I'd better take a proper first aid course if you're planning on getting injured like this every week. We don't want you getting septicaemia because I didn't clean you up properly.'

'I trust you, Princess.'

'Like you have a choice! Shall I take a look at your shoulder?'

He pushed the sleeve of his tank top down so she could look at his gunshot wound.

'It's a gnarly looking scar, but I think it's OK,' she told him.

'I think it's gonna ache in the cold weather.'

'Then it's a good job you live in L.A.'

They smiled at each other.

'Hey, where is Angel, anyway?' Cordelia asked.

* * *

Rebecca had switched all the downstairs lights off and was making her way up the staircase when a sudden noise alerted her to an intruder inside her house. As she whirled around, one of the plate glass windows smashed into smithereens and a large shape crashed through into the room below her. Angel righted himself, shook the remnants of glass off himself and then began whaling on a guy in a black ski mask, who had crept into the room. The guy struggled to escape from his vampire assailant, and once he was free, he pulled a heavy bookcase down on top of Angel and then fled through the broken window.

Rebecca rushed down the stairs and towards Angel, to check he was OK. He struggled out from under the upended bookshelf and stood up to face Rebecca, standing between her sofa and the large, polished mirror that she had hanging on the wall. The actress opened her mouth to ask if he was alright, but as she did, her eyes strayed past him and the words died on her lips. The mirror was empty except for her own, pale, frightened image. The man before her cast no reflection.

Not knowing what to say, she was distracted by a sudden banging on the front door. Her security guys wanted to know she was alright, and she took a moment to assure them she was, and that there was no cause for alarm. By the time she had turned back to her rescuer, he had disappeared...

...

...Over an hour later, having just got rid of Oliver, telling him she wanted to be alone, and with half of the LAPD camped out on her front lawn; she finally returned upstairs. 'I know that you're still here,' she told the darkness. Angel appeared from out of the gloom, seeming to melt into visibility, as if from nowhere. 'I'm not what you think...' he said.

'You're not? Because no reflection … dark private office… knowing instantly that those letters weren't written in blood? ...I'm thinking … vampire.'

'Then again…'

'Which is impossible. Bela Lugosi. Gary Oldman. Those are vampires.'

Angel winced. 'Actually, Frank Langella was the only performance I believed.'

She laughed, a short sharp disbelieving bark of a laugh. 'Is this real? Are you for real … do you drink blood?'

'I do … but not people', Angel was quick to reassure her.

'You're not a killer?'

'Not any more.'

That laugh again … 'I guess there's a support group in this town for just about anything. How old are ….? A hundred years?'

'Two hundred, and a bit.'

'But you only look…' She stepped closer to him, not believing her senses, wanting to test more of them. 'If I touch you, will you be cold?' She reached out a hand and cupped his cheek. 'I've felt colder.' She probably hadn't, Angel figured, she was just trying to prove she wasn't scared; making a point of accepting this, accepting him. If only Kate could have reacted this way, everything could have been so much simpler. 'I lied to Oliver' she said to him, still caressing his cheek, 'I don't really want to be alone, tonight.'

* * *

Doyle heaved the elevator gates back and stepped out into Angel's office. His vampire boss wasn't there. He frowned, and then headed into the outer office where he found Wesley, sitting all alone behind Cordelia's desk.

'Hey, man', Doyle greeted his British colleague. 'Is Angel around? I'm not sure, but I don't think he came home last night.'

'He didn't', Wesley told him 'He just rang up to tell me that he decided to take Ms. Lowell's case after all.'

'He did _what_?' Cordelia had entered through the front door, just in time to hear the end of Wesley's statement.

'Yes, I just got off the phone with him, we're to follow up on the details of that stolen car.'

'What made him change his mind?' Cordelia was suspicious.

'I don't believe he did … I think he always intended to keep tabs on the situation. Someone broke in last night and he had to intervene.'

'And then he phoned you this morning?'

Wesley nodded in affirmation.

'How early?' her voice rose in panic, 'did he spend the night?'

'I thought this was what you wanted, darlin? Helping her helps you, Hollywood networking, that sort o' thing?'

Cordelia threw Doyle a disbelieving look, like she couldn't comprehend that any one person could be that dense. 'Oh sure, he just spent the night alone with the fantasy of millions, this is exactly what I wanted!'

'If you're worried about the curse, I really don't think you need to,' Wesley told her.

'That's easy for you to say, both of you!' She glanced in disgust at her two male colleagues. 'You've never met Angelus, I, however, was on the first wave of the clean up crew, finding creepy stalkery pictures left in people's bedrooms and driving my friends to the police station when our teacher was killed. I'm the qualified party here, and I choose to worry. If he knows perfect happiness he goes evil, and that means we all die in horrible ways.'

'The curse activated because he was with _Buffy_ ', Wesley explained patiently. 'Perfect happiness is so rare as to be almost impossible to achieve. 99.999 ad infinitum percent of the best relationships in recorded history have had to make do with _acceptable_ happiness.'

'He's right', Doyle interrupted. Cordelia glanced at him… wondering …

But Wesley was still talking, 'So what on earth are the chances that Angel is going to find that with an _actress_?'

' _Excuse me_? What is that supposed to mean?'

Wesley floundered under the fury of her gaze, Doyle jumped in to rescue him: 'I think what Wesley meant was that Broody Boy, champion of the people, prefers himself the joyless warrior types - like Buffy - fun, easy going, happy actresses are far more my style, yeah?'

Cordelia nodded to herself, sagely... that did make sense. Wesley threw Doyle a grateful look.

'Well, we need to go check on him.' Cordelia said.

'How's that, princess?'

'Oh come on, he spent all night with Rebecca, we owe it to that poor girl to see if he ended up chowing down on my one link to real fame.'

* * *

As Angel walked down the stairs at Rebecca's house, he found Doyle and Cordelia scrutinising the smashed window pane from out in the garden, safely huddled in a patch of sunlight.

'Doyle, Cordelia … you're here.' He took in the massive wooden cross Cordy had hung around her neck '...And you brought a cross.'

'Along with three double half caf, nonfat skinny lattes,' she waved a Styrofoam tray, holding three takeout cups of coffee, in his direction.

'And a cross,' Angel repeated.

'He doesn't appear to be into the leathers, Cordy, if y'know what I mean,' Doyle said to her, taking a sip out of his own coffee, which was probably not a nonfat, skinny anything, and certainly not half caf.

'It's true,' she agreed. 'Evil Angel would never wear _those_ pants.' Angel sighed, feeling aggrieved, considering they were supposed to be his employees: the two of them took far too much enjoyment in making fun of him.

'Is Rebecca around?' Cordelia asked, scanning around eagerly for the star.

'She had a lunch to go to.'

'And what? She just left you here to rummage through her things?.'

'No. I told her that I was a vampire and that daytime patio dining was out.'

'Did you just make a joke?' His two employees shared an impressed glance between themselves. Angel sighed again, they could be really mean, he shouldn't have to put up with this. But he enjoyed the way their looks turned to incredulity as he answered Cordelia.

'No, I really told her.'

'Wow. So … do you think she'd set me up with her manager?'

* * *

Rebecca met Oliver at a chic little place on Wilshire Blvd, she had ordered a salad nicoise and a mineral water, and then the fussing from her devoted manager began. She sighed: 'they cancelled didn't they?'

'No, oh no', he assured her, 'they've only postponed, its just a scheduling conflict.' That made her sigh even deeper. _Scheduling conflict._ Raven was never subject to any scheduling conflict, they made time for her! 'Dammit Oliver,' she said to him, 'you told me I had this part.' He made reassuring noises and informed her just how eager the producers were to meet her, have her come into the offices and read. _Read._

* * *

'Do you know how long it's been since I had to read for a part?' she asked Angel, as she worked out on her treadmill, the speed set to run. She had been working out since before sunrise, stopping only to meet with Oliver for her fabulous Hollywood lunch date, and now she was straight back at it, working off the salad. She had to look her best, be in shape: 'a season and a half off the air and suddenly I'm nobody again.' An ageing nobody at that.

Angel picked up the tabloids that were laid out across the bed he was sitting on, 'not according to these', he said to her, waving the multiple gossip articles detailing her life in her face.

'Yeah, well according to those I've slept with Ernest Borgnine and I'm bulimic.' She couldn't be bulimic, vomiting that much would damage the enamel on her teeth and leave the yellow dentine showing through, and she'd paid good money for these teeth. This was why she worked out so hard instead, and lived off salad.

'I hear Borgnine is a very skilled lover', Angel joked with her, which made her sigh a little. He didn't get it, he was over 200 years old and didn't look a day over 25, how could he get it? And he probably didn't think too much of her poor little rich girl problems, either. He was there because her life was in danger, not because she was a fading beauty trying to cling onto fame like something out of Sunset Boulevard. He probably helped women in far more peril than herself, with far bigger problems. He was a champion to those in need, a protector, but it wasn't really his protection Rebecca craved from him.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, and Rebecca stopped exercising just long enough to go and answer it. A maid was outside holding a garment bag. 'Here you are Ms. Lowell.'

'Thanks, Maria.' She looked over at Angel, sizing him up. 'What are you, 44 long?'

'Why?'

'I have a premiere to attend tonight. I can't go without my bodyguard now, can I?'

* * *

'I can't believe Captain Recluse is attending a fabulous Hollywood premiere tonight and I'm stuck here playing nurse with you!'

'Is it really that bad, darlin?' Doyle winced as Cordelia ripped the gauze off his stab wound just a little too quickly, he was pretty sure she'd ragged some hair out by the roots as well as peeling off his top layer of skin.

'I think this is probably the last time I really need to check on this', she told him as she rubbed some antiseptic cream around the stab mark. 'It's not bleeding or oozing or doing anything gross anymore… and yes it is that bad.'

'I thought you said it was nearly healed?'

'Not this!' She gestured at his stab wound, 'this!' She flung her arms wide to encompass the whole apartment. 'Angel going out on the town, to a place packed full of famous people, _who he won't even recognise anyway_. Getting attention, getting his photo taken. Reflected glory? That's my thing!'

'You don't need to reflect anybody else, darlin', you don't belong in anyone's shadow, yeah? Better to wait til it's your own invite to the premiere and it's your photo they wanna take.'

She smiled at that, and her hands became slightly gentler as she administered to his injury. 'As if that's ever gonna happen', she grumbled, but she looked pleased at his words.

'Don't be so hard on yourself, you're the 'Stain Be Gone' girl aren'tcha? Starring in commercials, modelling for posters, getting invited onto talk shows...'

'Crappy talk shows,' she interrupted.

'Yeah, but it's a start, you're not even a year out of high school yet, it's a great start!'

She shook her long hair over her face and kept her eyes firmly on the task at hand, re-bandaging Doyle's abdomen, but even so he could see the brilliant 1000 kilowatt smile that had lit up her face as he praised her small successes. The more she smiled, the kinder her hands became. He would have to remember that next time he was injured: say nice things to her and she would tend to him far more gently.

After a short while of focusing on her job, and not looking up to make eye contact, she decided to ask Doyle a question. 'Hey, Doyle? Did you really agree with what Wesley said earlier?'

'Which part?'

'The bit where he said…' finishing with her first aid, she pulled his tank top back down over his wound and then carefully set about tidying up, still not looking at him '... where he said that perfect happiness was really rare and most couples never achieve it?'

'I think that's more or less true, yeah.' He fixed her in his gaze, she could feel his eyes on her and could imagine the expression she would read in them, but she resolutely didn't look. She carried on keeping busy.

'So … were you never perfectly happy with…'

'With Harri?'

'Yeah.' She quickly got off the bed and went to put the first aid kit back in the medicine cupboard. When she turned around, Doyle had followed her out of the bedroom. It was getting harder to find reasons to avoid looking at him, she decided to make some coffee.

'I dunno', he told her. She stopped in her tracks.

'How can you not know?'

Doyle chuckled a bit at her exasperation. 'Because measuring happiness isn't an exact science, yeah? And unlike our dark avenger friend, I don't have a switch that flips when I've had a bit too much o' the good stuff. I guess no matter how happy I am, there's always a chance I could technically be happier.'

'So you're saying people can't know if they're perfectly happy unless they've got the same curse as Angel? And then, by the time you do know, it's too late?'

'Yep, that about sums it up.'

'Boy. Are we ever getting gypped... So ...do you think you could ever be happier than you were when you were with Harri?'

He thought about that for a while, Cordelia never shied away from the tough questions! 'Well… things are different now ...I'm a demon, and that means…'

'What? That you can't ever be happy?'

He would have expected her to sound derisive, dismissive, even, when she said that. It sounded so stupid said out loud. And Cordelia did not suffer stupid, gladly. But she didn't sound dismissive. He might be misinterpreting her tone, but she sounded more than a little crushed.

'No', he assured her. 'I've got a lot of stuff to work through but, yeah, I could be that happy, or happier … in time, for the right reason.'

She finally looked at him and her voice took on a mocking edge, she had decided to make this heavy conversation much lighter. 'Would that right reason involve a bottle of fine, 12 year old scotch?'

But he wasn't going to let her get away with that, not when it was her who had brought this up in the first place: 'No, Princess, the only reason I can possibly imagine would involve you.'

* * *

It was a good job that Cordelia could not see Angel right at that moment, as, if she could, even the kindest most flattering words that Doyle could muster would not have been enough to soothe her bitter envy. He was riding in a limousine with Rebecca, dressed in black tie, drinking champagne. As the starlet stepped out onto the red carpet, a great excited cry ran through the crowd which had gathered to watch the rich and famous arrive at the premiere. Angel stepped out behind her and winced as the flashes of camera bulbs went off in all directions. 'Raven! Raven!' people in the crowd shouted to Rebecca. She smiled, and waved graciously to her fans, but she leaned in towards Angel. 'Do you hear that? Raven? They think I'm the character that I play', she said through her smile.

They walked into the theatre... and then straight out of the back door. 'They're showing the movie in an alleyway?' Angel asked, confused.

'Oh, no,' Rebecca explained. 'I only come to these things for the photo op, I'd die of boredom if I had to sit through every single one. My driver knows to pick me up round the back.'

A slight movement out of the corner of his eye alerted Angel to the fact that the two of them were not alone. A man was standing on the fire escape of the building, opposite the back of the theatre. He was reaching for a gun. The vampire wasted no time and, pushing Rebecca to one side, used his enhanced agility to spring straight from the ground and up onto the metal platform. Despite being thumped in the face, the guy was still able to fire off a round of bullets vaguely in the actresses' direction. Angel continued to smack him around until he succumbed to unconsciousness and tumbled down the stairs. As he landed at her feet, Rebecca stared at the face of her assailant. Angel was immediately beside her, holding her, telling her everything was going to be OK. But she stood silent and rigid, just staring at the face of the man who had been stalking her.


	35. Eternity: Part Three

The cops had arrived and were interviewing Angel, wanting to know how they had come to be in this alleyway and exactly what had transpired. Rebecca stood with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, clutching a cup of coffee that had been given to her. A female police officer stood beside her, comforting her. But Rebecca did not need her comfort. She was angry. And as Oliver approached her, picking his way through the alley to get to her side, she knew things were about to come to a head.

'Rebecca, darling, not again! I came as soon as I heard.'

'Oh yeah? And when exactly was that?' She glared at her manager, her expression cold and unyielding. The small man was confused and drew back a little from the intensity of her gaze. 'What do you mean?' He didn't understand the question, it was not the response he was expecting.

'I know my stalker, Oliver, I've seen him.'

'At your house…'

'Yeah, uhuh, there too. But he's a stuntman. You used to represent him.'

'Is he?... I didn't get a proper look.'

'Oh come off it, Oliver!' She snorted in impatience and swung herself around away from the police officer so that she wouldn't hear the rest of the conversation. 'My home phone number, my address, the fact that I always skip the movie at a premiere, even the fact of where I was gonna be out two nights ago. That's all information only you could have supplied him with.'

Under the onslaught of her fury the little man seemed to crumble, and he began to make excuses, to try and get her to understand. He spoke to her in pleading tones, hoping that she would see the sense of his actions. 'You have to know I would never have let you get hurt. You must believe that. I thought the publicity might help you get the series. I did it out of love.'

'I don't pay you to love me', she said, coldly.

'No, that part you get for free, kiddo', he told her, in a sad voice. She had no time for his sadness though, she did understand. With great shining clarity she suddenly understood something perfectly. 'I didn't get the part, did I?'

'I was going to tell you tonight … the network has decided you're too mature for this particular role. It's a setback. Nothing more than that. Once you've put some time and distance between yourself and Raven...'

'The series is in syndication! She's never going away! She'll always be there, looking younger, sweeter and prettier than me!'

'Sweetie!' Oliver shook his head at her words, trying to bring some sense back into the conversation, 'your life is not over at 24!'

'I'm not 24 I'm twenty-'

'Shhhh!' He put his fingers to his lips and looked around to check no one had heard her little outburst, but she had had enough and she couldn't care less who heard, if the lies got exposed.

'Raven is 22. She will always be 22.'

'Right, but she's not you. You have to face it, Bec, no one stays young forever.'

Rebecca gazed over to where Angel was stood talking to the cops, Oliver tried to get her attention back, but she didn't look away...

* * *

The next morning, Angel was sat behind his desk, and Doyle was sat in the chair opposite him. Both had their feet up on the desk and their arms folded across their chests, adopting the brooding position. Angel had just given his friend some surprising news from the night before and neither one were quite sure how to process it.

Their silent introspection was interrupted by Wesley entering, holding a piece of paper that he was puzzling over, frown lines playing across his forehead as he wondered at the information he was about to deliver. 'I thought you might like to know, I got the preliminary forensic report from the theatre', he said to Angel, nodding a greeting to Doyle as he did. 'The bullets were…'

'Blanks,' Angel finished.

'No in fact they were blanks', answered Wesley, not really listening, so bemused was he by his findings. His brain caught up with his ears, 'oh.'

'I went back to the alley way last night. None of the shots connected, no bullet holes, no chipped paint, nothing,' the vampire explained to his coworkers.

'Seems a lot o' fuss to go to, stalking down a pretty girl, shootin' at her, gettin' yourself knocked unconscious', Doyle nodded at Angel in recognition of the part he had played the previous evening, 'just to fire a load of blanks at someone. Makes you wonder...'

'Yes', agreed Wesley, thoughtfully. 'Since when does a killer use blanks?'

'When he's not a killer', Angel replied. His two employees nodded their agreement. 'I just don't know how I'm gonna tell Rebecca all this.'

'Y'don' think she'll be happy to know she's safe?'

'This is good news isn't it?' chimed in Wesley.

'That all depends', Angel sighed and then looked at them both, trying to get them to understand. 'What will upset her more. Being stalked or not being stalked?'

There was a rather pregnant silence as the three men digested this pronouncement. And then: 'actresses!' Wesley snorted.

'Tell me about it!' his boss agreed.

'Hey, guys! We'll have less of that', the final man protested, fixing his two friends with his sternest glare, until they dropped their gaze and mumbled their apologies. They hadn't meant to include Cordelia in that. They promised.

* * *

Speaking of Cordelia, she was having the time of her life, all grumpiness and envy over Angel's exploits totally forgiven and forgotten. She had received a phone call from none other than Rebecca 'Raven' Lowell herself, that morning, inviting her, Cordelia Chase from Sunnydale, on an afternoon shopping spree. She had barely been able to make coherent noises as she had accepted, and she hadn't managed anywhere near coherence when she rang the office to tell them she wasn't coming in today.

...

She had spoken to, well squealed at, Angel first, who had listened uncomprehendingly and then silently passed the phone to Doyle. Doyle had held the receiver away from his ear as he concentrated on translating her squawks of joy. He wasn't a hundred percent on what was happening, but he gathered he would be missing out on the pleasure of her company that day, but that she was very happy. That was good enough for him. He hung up the phone: 'she's not coming in,' he told Angel, simply.

'She's not pregnant?' Angel had asked, thinking of the last time she hadn't made it into the office.

'If she is, she's _really_ happy about it.'

'OK.'

...

Now she, _Cordelia Chase from Sunnydale,_ was strolling along Rodeo Drive with one of the most famous T.V stars of the 90s and this was absolutely the most amazing thing that had ever happened to a person ever, certainly the most amazing thing to happen to a person from Sweatydale. And Rebecca was thanking her, _thanking her!_ For agreeing to come out with her. Had she mentioned recently that she was only Cordelia Chase from Sunnydale? She did a weird sort of shriek snort of excitement as she listened to Rebecca saying that she was really grateful that Cordy would spend time with her. 'Oh yeah, haha!' she laughed, 'because big, important T.V stars ask me out for lunch and shopping all the time - in my dreams!'

'I'm just an actress, same as you.'

Another shriek snort. Cordelia apologised. 'I'll try not to do that again. _You're_ an actress. I just go on audition after audition to get one crummy little part and wind up on basic cable chat shows getting groped by sleazoids.'

'The sleazoids don't ever go away, I'm afraid,' Rebecca told her. 'But everyone has to start out somewhere, you're doing really well for a woman straight out of high school. People spend years waiting for the break you had … most of the time it never comes. You're one of the success stories, Cordelia.'

Cordy broke her promise, another shriek snort. Rebecca glanced around, a little embarrassed. 'Sorry! Sorry!' Cordelia apologised again. 'But it was great of you to call, you must have loads of friends who could have gone shopping with you.'

'Sure ... but would any of them know what to buy a 200 year old vampire as a thank you present?'

'Tell me about it! He is impossible to buy for! Doyle swears the answer is a decent set of pajamas because Angel's always wandering around the place nude or semi nude.'

'Really?' Rebecca raised an eyebrow, she seemed interested.

'Oh sure, Angel likes to pretend he's so deep and tortured but he's a total poser. I mean, how does he even get his hair to look like that when he doesn't even have a reflection? So yeah, pajamas... or mousse, the boy could always use more mousse.'

The famous actress smiled, but she was only half listening, and she steered the conversation into the direction she really wanted it to take. 'So what's his story anyway? How did he become what he is?'

'Oh jeez, y'got 8 hours?'

'I've got all day.'

Shriek snort.

* * *

Night had fallen and Angel was getting ready to leave the apartment. 'So have y' decided how y' goin' to tell her, yet?' Doyle asked. The half demon had retired to Angel's bed already, complaining that his various wounds hurt, though Angel was reasonably sure that the real complaint was that Cordy was not there to play nurse for him tonight. So he didn't feel too bad about leaving his friend alone to suffer. Besides the T.V from the office was still in the bedroom, Doyle would be fine.

'I guess I'll just have to come right out and say it. Or should I lead into it more gently? Maybe I should open with a joke?'

'Good idea, man, what joke?'

'...I'll just come out and say it.'

'Good call.'

Angel pulled on his duster, 'see you later.'

'Later.'

The vampire shut the door to his bedroom and made his way to the staircase. He met Rebecca coming down the stairs.

'There was no one in the office, so I just came down, I hope that's OK?'

'Yeah, sure...I was just coming to see you. Come on in.'

'I went shopping with Cordelia this afternoon', the actress told him. That was the missing translation of the squeals of joy, he realised, and made a mental note to fill Doyle in later. 'I wanted to get you a thank you gift. But what do you get the vampire who already has everything?'

'I'm not sure… but I always seem to get a lot of pajamas and mousse. I don't even wear pajamas!...I mean, ... you didn't have to get me anything... I was happy to help. '

She smiled. 'Well, I thought, what's better than a bottle of Dom? You do drink …?'

'Other beverages? Sure ...I'll get us some glasses. Sit down'

The vampire took his duster off again and then, taking the bottle of champagne off Rebecca, went into the kitchen to find a corkscrew and some glasses. It was lucky he had human friends around him these days, as not that many months ago he would have had nothing in his cupboards and only pig's blood in his fridge.

'This is nice', Rebecca said looking around. 'It's not what I expected.'

'Well...there's no coffin', Angel agreed, returning with the drinks and the open bottle.

'You know? That hadn't even crossed my mind.' She accepted her glass off Angel.

'There's something I need to tell you,' Angel started to say. 'You're stalker ..'

'Isn't really a stalker? Yes I know all about it. It turns out we share representation.'

'Oliver.'

'It seems he staged the whole thing to jump start my flagging career. It didn't work. I didn't get the part.'

'I'm sorry.'

She shrugged. That wasn't what she was here to think about. 'Have you ever…?' she blushed and giggled coyly, 'no it's silly .. nothing.'

'What?'

'Have you ever done that thing where you link arms and drink champagne? It's meant to be sort of a good luck thing.'

Angel moved closer to her and they did just that. But as they tilted their arms ready to drink, Rebecca seemed to lose control of her glass and she spilled the liquid down Angel's front.

'Oh I'm so sorry!'

'It's no problem. It's kinda fun. Cold. but fun. I'll just go change my shirt.' He got up and went back into the bedroom.

...

Doyle gave him a confused look. 'I thought you were goin'?'

'Rebecca arrived here just as I was leaving, she's on the couch.'

'Oh, right, man. Well I'll just be real quiet, like, and keep my fingers in my ears, yeah?' The vampire stripped off his shirt. Doyle raised his eyebrows and took that as a rousing 'yes'.

But then the vampire took out another shirt, almost identical to the first, and put that on. The rippling ab show, it appeared, was for Doyle's benefit this week, not Rebecca's.

'What are you doin'?'

'Rebecca spilt champagne down my shirt, I've come to change it.'

'Oh, that makes sense, I suppose.'

'I'm going back out there'

'Good luck'

Angel threw him a dirty glance over his shoulder as he left the room, and Doyle wriggled back down into the bed, flicking through the channels until he found a game to watch. It wasn't the same without money riding on it; American sports were deadly dull if you weren't risking getting your legs broken if things didn't go your way, but it was still better than another episode of 'Talk nights with Billy Cassidy.'

...

Whilst the two men had been talking in the bedroom, Rebecca had been busy. She took out a small pouch of white powder and emptied it into Angel's champagne glass. Then she topped it up with some more of the Dom Perignon.

Angel returned to her and she smiled at him. 'Let's try this again' she said. 'A Toast. To the end of an end and the beginning of a beginning.'

They clinked the glasses and Angel drank. Rebecca watched him, eagerly.

* * *

Cordelia swung the door open in response to the sharp knocking, she was frantic and a little of her alarm had infected Wesley, even though he had no idea why she had summoned him to her home.

'Oh thank God you're here!'

'Cordelia, what is it?'

'I think I might have done something terrible! I went shopping with Rebecca.'

'And that was terrible?' The British man was perplexed.

'Are you kidding? It was fantastic! Do you know they actually close stores for her? Oh! And Lunch at Mirabelle's ...I had the most _to die for_ veal filet, with a light truffle marinade, and..'

'Cordelia!' he interrupted her sharply.

'Oh right! Well, Rebecca was real friendly, real chatty … asking all sorts of questions about Angel.'

'What types of questions?'

'Oh … you know, where he hails from, what his favourite colour is, how exactly a vampire goes about turning a person into another vampire … that sort of stuff.'

The watcher inhaled sharply. 'You can't be imagining that she'd ..'

'What? Try to manoeuvre Angel into an exchange of bodily fluids that would leave her eternally young and beautiful, thus saving her flagging career? Gee, now that you mention it…'

Without another word, the two of them rushed out of the apartment.

* * *

Angel was slurring his speech, he didn't understand why his head had gone all fuzzy but it felt nice, tingly. He hadn't felt this good in a long time.

'I did some real bad stuff, I mean, I was really really _really_ bad', he mumbled to Rebecca. She smiled at him soothingly and when she spoke her voice was warm, like honey. 'I don't believe that.'

'No it's true!' He protested, woozily. 'I was bad. That's why I have to be good now. To help people.'

'Cordelia said you saved the world', her tone was almost seductive.

'I helped a couple of times', he agreed, then he winced. 'But then there was that time I nearly had it sucked into hell.'

'Still … don't you think after all this time … you might deserve to be happy?'

He laughed, a rueful little chuckle that lasted longer than it should. 'That wouldn't be a good idea.' He sniffed at her hair, he didn't mean too, but his heavy head was making it hard to be normal Angel. He was fuzzy Angel right now. 'You smell so good … so warm. I miss that.'

'You don't have to.' She exposed her long, white neck to him. 'You can have what you crave, we both can, forever.'

The warm fuzzies took a bit of a backseat at that, and he managed to sober up a little. 'What are you saying?' he asked, pulling away from her.

'You know what I'm saying. Do this for me, Angel.'

'You don't know what you're asking.'

'There's a price, I understand, I'm willing to pay it. This is what I want, what I need.'

'No!' Angel managed to force his body upwards and stumble away from the couch, away from her. That made her angry. 'This is what I want. I wasn't afraid, was I? When I looked in the mirror and saw you weren't there. I didn't scream, I understood.'

'You understood', he told her, more sober than he had been just a moment ago. 'You looked in that mirror and all you saw was yourself. Your reflection. And that's what frightens you, your own image corrupted into something you don't recognise. And that's what you want to make disappear.'

'You're supposed to help people', she told him, angrily. 'Help _me_.'

'You want help, fine.' All the warm, heaviness had left him now. He felt strange; electric, out of control. He grabbed her by the throat and dragged her over to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bag of pig's blood. He bit it open and then forced it into her mouth. 'Is this what you want?' He demanded. 'Is this really what will make you happy?' She tried to pull away and keep her mouth closed, to prevent the red viscous fluid from pouring down the inside of her throat. But she couldn't keep it all out and, as she felt it's sliminess travel through her mouth, she tried not to gag. The blood dribbled down her chin and onto to her dress, she struggled and squirmed, but Angel was relentless. 'It's a big decision, Rebecca. Eternity.'

She cried out. He seemed to suddenly come to his senses, realise what he was doing and stop. He pulled away from her and a look of horror crossed his face. 'What did you do to me?'

'Nothing.'

'You put something in my drink.'

'It was nothing… a happy pill. I just wanted you to be happy.'

Angel began to laugh; a long, chilling, unnerving laugh. 'I am happy', he told the actress, once he had finally stopped. 'Perfectly.'


	36. Eternity: Part Four

Doyle heard the sound of glass smashing, of something heavy hitting the floor, and then he heard Rebecca cry out. He frowned. That didn't sound like the kind of noises he'd expected to hear at all. Much as he didn't want to get in the way of his friend's big night with a famous actress, he still decided it was probably best if he checked that everything was OK. If everything _was_ OK, he'd apologise; slink back into the bedroom and continue pretending not to be there. If everything wasn't OK …

He opened the door; everything wasn't OK. In fact, much to his alarm, it seemed like the evening had taken a twist for the leather pants wearing worst. He saw Rebecca flung across the room and land heavily in a crumpled heap by the trapdoor they used to access the sewer tunnels. She struggled to right herself and, as she sat up, Doyle realised that she was already covered in blood. 'You're crazy', she said, looking up fearfully towards the man that was bearing down on her.

'Oh no. I'm a vampire,' he laughed. Doyle had never seen Angel look like this, had never seen a look of such pure cruelty on his face, or the light of gleeful insanity in his eyes. This was not his Angel, but Rebecca still did not understand what had happened.

'This isn't you', she told him.

'They always mistake me for the character I play', Angelus sneered back at her. 'They never see the real me.'

Doyle began to edge out of the bedroom, he needed to get Rebecca away from his friend, but he didn't want the crazed vampire realising he was there before he was ready. He needed something, a weapon, anything that could help.

'I'm … I just wanted...' Rebecca was gasping her words out, trying to reason with Angel, trying to make him see sense.

'To be like me? I don't blame you. I'm one happy fella.'

She ran, but Angelus was too quick for her, and cut off her exit. Doyle continued to sidle towards them, not making any sudden movements, staying out of Angel's peripheral vision. He could only hope that the terror, which flowed off Rebecca in waves, would overpower Angelus' senses enough that he would not notice his best friend until it was too late.

'I tell you what', the vampire said to the actress, in a facsimile of reason, 'I'll torture you for a few unbelievably long hours and then you can tell me if this is really the lifestyle for you.'

She made a break for it, and ran up the stairs, but again she was no match for vampire speed and Angel caught her and threw her back down. She stumbled against the table and then pulled herself up. Behind her back, she reached for the candelabra she had seen there.

As Angel bounded back down the stairs he caught sight of his friend stood, frozen, in the kitchen. 'Doyle!' he said, sounding pleased to see him. 'I'd forgotten you were here! You don't mind if I kill Rebecca before I kill you, do you? Ladies first and all.' Doyle said nothing, but gripped the one weapon he had managed to find behind his back.

'Whatever you're going to do... Do it. I'm not running anymore.' Rebecca stood facing the vampire, he approached her slowly, like a cat stalking its prey. She stood still until the last moment and then, just as he was within biting distance, she hauled the candelabra up and smacked him across the face with all her strength.

Angelus stopped, surprised. 'Now that I respect!' She hit out again and he fell backwards into the chair behind him. She ran for the elevator, and Doyle followed her.

Angel was quick, as always, and pounced across the room to stop them escaping, but as Rebecca struggled to get the gate closed, Doyle lifted the weapon he had found. It was the cross Cordelia had taken to the actress' house the other morning, she must have left it in Angel's apartment when she had been tending to Doyle's wounds later that night.

The Irishman pushed the cross right into Angel's face and the vampire hissed and recoiled. Rebecca was able to slam the gate closed, and the elevator began to creak its way upwards.

* * *

In her panic, Rebecca forgot to stop the elevator and it continued to ascend above the office. Between the two of them they managed to force it to a stop, halfway between the floor and the ceiling, and push the unyielding gates open. Doyle then helped the actress slither down through the small gap that was left. But as she did, she felt someone catch hold of her legs and she began to scream. Doyle tried to pull her back into the elevator.

'It's okay!'

The voice was British, and the half demon was relieved to realise that her assailant was Wesley come to help, not Angelus come to kill.

'Oh thank God, he's trying to kill me!' Rebecca collapsed into the arms of the watcher.

'What did you do to him?'

Doyle groaned. That was Cordelia's voice, why had she come here and put herself in so much danger? He wriggled out through the tiny gap himself. It was far more of a squeeze for him than it had been for Rebecca, and for once in his life he was glad to have been built along decidedly small lines, Angel could not have made it through this gap. He landed on the floor with a thump and was pleasantly surprised when Cordelia threw her arms around him. 'Thank God you're OK, I was worried!'

'What are y' doin' here?'

'I told Rebecca all about how you sire a vampire! Wesley and I realised what she meant to do and had to come and stop it!'

'I really wish you hadn't!' Doyle told her.

'He's insane!' Rebecca interrupted. 'He's a psychopath, he's trying to kill me!'

'And what exactly did you do to him?' Cordelia stopped fixating on Doyle and rounded on her former shopping partner. She sounded very angry.

'I didn't do anything!' Rebecca protested.

'With respect Ms. Lowell, you must have done something,' Wesley said to her.

'I gave him a little something is all, something to loosen him up, but now he's…'

'LOOSE?' shrieked Cordelia.

'Yeah.'

'What did you give him?' the British man wanted to know.

'Doximal', Rebecca told him. 'It's really good stuff.'

'What does Doximal do?' Doyle asked, having a horrible feeling that he already knew the answer.

'It's a powerful drug that induces a feeling of contentment … bliss' Wesley told him.

'Bliss? As in _perfect happiness_?' Cordelia was not impressed with what she was hearing.

'He hasn't turned', Wesley assured her in soothing tones. 'It's an illusion, it isn't real.'

'He bit me.'

'Still, perhaps we had better leave the premises until after the effects have worn off,' the watcher concluded.

But, before they could leave. the lights went out. Cordelia jumped into Doyle's arms. The situation was really too terrible to enjoy that, but he was dreadful person and so he still really enjoyed it, anyway. He held her tightly. But he also maintained a strong grip on his cross. Rebecca backed away into a corner and slumped down onto the floor.

'He's cut the power,' Wesley said. 'That means he's gone outside.'

'Someone forgot to pay the electric bill … Cordelia.' Angelus' sing song voice floated across the office and the vampire appeared in the doorway. Doyle tightened his grip on Cordy and edged his body around so that she was behind him. 'Who wants to bet that the phone line's dead too?'

'Angel, I want you to listen to me…' Wesley was forcing himself to sound calm and rational, and was slowly moving forwards towards his boss. 'What you are experiencing is not genuine. You have been fed a drug, it's simulating bliss. This is all just chemical suggestion ...Angel?'

'The name's Angelus.'

'I don't wish to resort to drastic measures, but unless you listen to me, I warn you…'

'You're warning me? What happened Wes? Did you suddenly grow a pair? That's the root of it all, you're inferiority complex isn't it? Well good news, Wes old boy, you don't have an inferiority complex, you're just inferior.' He grabbed hold of the British man and threw him as easily as if he were a ragdoll, across the office. Wesley's head smashed against the wall and he was knocked unconscious. Cordelia screamed.

'Angel, man…' Doyle began to say, but the vampire turned on him next.

'Talking about inferiority complexes, here's Doyle! You gonna fight me Doyle? Demon to demon? In front of Cordelia? God, Cordy! The whining and _agonising_ I had to listen to over him trying to grow the balls to tell you about his demon half. What does it even matter?' The vampire laughed again, it never got less frightening. 'But then I worked it out, Doyle. It was Cordelia that made me realise, well her disgusting little 'Stain Be Gone' skit, actually. It isn't only sneezing that forces you into demon face, is it? I guess the real question though, is: are those spikes just on your face?'

Doyle launched himself at Angel, brandishing the cross, but Angel was ready for him, and threw him across the room as easily as he had done Wesley. The cross clattered out of his hand and across the floor, Doyle slumped against the wall. _That was stupid_ Doyle realised as he slipped out of consciousness: now Cordelia was unprotected.

'Doyle! No!' Cordelia cried out, horrified, and she began to back away from the oncoming vampire.

'And then there were two,' he said to her.

'Angel, why don't we just … just …'

'Just ...just…' he mocked her fear. 'Just what? Hey I know, why don't you get on top of the desk and bargain for your life by whoring yourself out to me? That's what you do, isn't it? Demean yourself and prostitute yourself for your career: Russell Winters, Billy Cassidy - why not for me? I am your boss, after all. Maybe you'll be so good I won't just spare your life, I'll give you a pay rise!'

'Stop it!' she turned her face away from him, stung by his words.

'Why? You didn't. I mean I've been to hell, but watching you on that show was something else. If you sell yourself for your career, why shouldn't I get some of the action?'

She backed away as far as she could go, but she finally hit up against the coffee stand and knew she could back away no further. So here she was, without anymore protectors or friends, without a weapon. Without hope. Take all that away and what did she have left? Actually, she knew full well what she had left. She was _Cordelia Freaking Chase from Sunnydale,_ she took crap from _no one_. She grabbed the bottle of water that stood by the coffee maker and brandished it at her boss.

'What are you going to do with that? Melt me?' That cruel laugh again, sounding more delighted than ever.

'One more step and you'll find out. You think this is just water?'

'You're bluffing!'

'Am I? You think I haven't prepared for this? You think I don't think about this _every single day_? Why else do I have a stake in my desk or a cross in my bag?'

'That's just drinking water.'

'Fresh from a mountain spring, delivered right to our door and then blessed every second Tuesday by Father Mackie, our local parish priest, whilst you're down in the bat cave, sleeping through the better part of the day. You don't believe me? Try some!' She threw it right into his face and he screamed and turned away, but then stopped. She _had_ been bluffing. But she had bought herself a few more precious seconds of life.

And it was enough. Doyle was back on his feet, his cross back in his grip. He lunged towards the vampire again and Angel, thrown off guard by the water, stumbled backwards in the face of the religious icon. And then Wesley was awake, and with a terrific yell he flung himself at Angel, and pushed the already wrong-footed vampire down the empty elevator shaft. The three team members peered down the shaft and saw their boss lying there at the bottom, knocked out cold.

* * *

Angel's head hurt and everything was black, he was also suffering from a tight, binding sensation all across his body. If he breathed, it would be suffocating. He could hear the voices of his friends floating through the darkness and he tried to make sense of them…

'Pretty sharp moves, Wesley, I'm impressed.' She sounded it, as well.

'It was nothing.'

'Don't sell, yourself short, bud. And you, princess, you did a great job, keepin' him talking.'

'Please! He isn't the first demon I've shouted into submission. I once threatened Lyle Gorch until he ran away, when Buffy was incapacitated, and he was a mass murderer before he was a vampire! And don't forget the time I exorcised the ghost from my house just by yelling at her.'

'There's no one more fearsome than you, Princess.'

'And don't you forget it!'

Angel groaned.

'He's coming round!'

He opened his eyes, and saw the faces of his three friends, they did not look altogether pleased to see him awake. He also saw all the chains and bolts that tied to him to the bed, that explained the tightness. Then he remembered. He groaned again. 'I am so sorry!'

'Is he still evil?' Cordelia asked Wesley.

'It's hard to say.'

'Really really sorry, guys. Did I mention that?'

'How can we know for sure, man? He hasn't changed his pants all evening... Though I did get a bit of a gun show when he swapped shirts earlier.'

'Like I said to Rebecca, total poser!'

'yep.'

'Super sorry, really super sorry with a cherry on top!'

'He's probably not evil.'

'Thanks, Doyle. I'm not. Rebecca, is she…?'

'She's gone,' Cordelia informed him, 'and, no … she won't be keeping you on retainer as her personal bodyguard. I think it was that whole 'trying to kill her' thing that lost you the gig.'

'I have to apologise. To all three of you...'

'There isn't a need,' Wesley told him.

'Uhh… hello?' Cordelia was less forgiving.

'It was the drugs', the watcher clarified, 'it couldn't be helped. Things were said … it's true. But I think it's all for the best if we just move on.'

'Thank you.' Angel was relieved that Wesley, of all his friends: the trained watcher, was taking this so well.

'You walk a fine line, Angel. I don't envy you.' He got up and began to leave.

'Hey, Wesley?' Wesley looked back at him. 'Cordelia was right, sharp moves up there.' Wesley smiled, a little sadly, and left the apartment. Angel looked at his other two employees, his original team, the ones who had built everything they had up from nothing. He hoped he hadn't destroyed all that in just one night.

'I don't believe I'm saying this but … Wesley's right.' Cordelia told him, 'forget about it.'

'I really didn't mean …'

'Yeah, you did. Angelus might not be the most relaxing company but at least he says what he's really thinking. What _you're_ really thinking.'

'Cordelia ...I-'

'My world isn't your world Angel, and you don't get what has to be done. Or how much I might hate doing those things. I'd much rather you just said what you thought, than lied to me, so I could put you right. I don't deserve to have you thinking those things about me, Angel, and I should be able to rely on honesty from the not evil version of my friends.'

'So we're OK?'

'I'm too big a person to let such a petty little thing get in the way of our friendship.'

'You're not going to untie me are you?'

'Pfft! As if!' and she followed Wesley out of the apartment.

'Doyle?'

'I don't know what you said to her man, what with being unconscious and all, but I think you really hurt her.'

'Long story short? I called her a whore for what she did on the Billy Cassidy show. If doing that bothered her as much as it bothered me … why would she do it?'

Doyle fixed him with a very stern look. 'Helping the hopeless doesn't exactly pay all the bills, you know. It certainly doesn't keep the hustlers and card sharks off my back.'

Angel was confused. 'What are you saying?'

'She's given all her commercial money to me, to pay off my creditors. I'm payin' her back, but she's still gotta make up the shortfall. She's still gotta live her life, and that takes money. She can't turn down publicity, if she's gonna be an actress, it's the way the game is played. Some people, mostly men, take advantage of that. There's no one in the world more determined than our Cordy, she'll do whatever it takes to get what she wants, she'll play the game and win. But that's her greatest strength, man, I guess maybe you just don't get that. The world is a very different place for those of us who can't just punch away our problems.'

The vampire groaned. 'Oh God, I didn't know she'd done that for you…'

'Yeah, well, you're gonna have to make it up to her … and Wesley as well, just don't make it too obvious what you're doin', yeah?'

'What about you?'

Doyle grimaced 'Well… you might have said some ... _stuff._.. that I would rather was _never_ said out loud. But I promised to kill you if you ever went evil ... and I didn't... So I guess we're even.'

'But you're not going to untie me, right?'

'No that isn't going to happen. I'll be off now, Cordelia says I'm all healed and, thanks to her, there shouldn't be any loan sharks hiding at my place waiting to kill me.' He went off up the stairs, leaving Angel bound to the bed.

'Doyle! Hey! Doyle? ….guys?'


	37. Five by Five: Part One

Three guys were huddled around a trashcan fire under a bridge. Whatever they were burning smelled vile, and they were on Marquez's gang's turf, so he was going to move them along. Guys had to show some respect, you know? 'Yo! You're hanging in the wrong place, man. My boys ain't gonna be happy when they see the mess you made…' he trailed off. The three men had turned to look at him, only they weren't men at all. Hideous and disfigured, they were like nothing he'd ever seen before, and the fuel they were burning? One of them lifted up the object he was about to throw on the fire, it was a human arm holding a gun - what was left of one of Marquez's boys. They were burning the dismembered parts of Marquez's gang. Marquez turned and fled. The demons gave chase.

A squeal of tyres announced the arrival of the Angelmobile, Wesley was driving at breakneck speed, bringing the car as close to the running demons as he could. Angel stood up in the passenger seat and beheaded one of the demons. 'That's him!' Doyle, sitting in the back, pointed out the guy from his vision, and the vampire swooped down on the fleeing human and dragged him inside the car. 'Hi, I'm Angel; this is my team, we will be rescuing you this evening.'

Wesley turned the car around, the smell of burning rubber rending the air as the wheels squealed in protest. On their way back past, Angel beheaded the final two demons. 'Nice work, man', Doyle commended his friend, from his place at the back. Marquez sat next to him, breathless and uncomprehending.

* * *

Across town, at the Los Angeles Bus Station, a greyhound pulled up and the passengers began to disembark. One was a young woman, couldn't be more than 18, but she had a look in her eyes that suggested she had seen way too much. She was also looking a little the worse for wear, her hair was lank and her skin had an unhealthy pallor; she looked very much like someone only just recovering from a long and serious illness... or an eleven month coma.

As she began to walk away from the station, unsure as to where she could go, a man detached himself from the shadows and followed her. New in town and with nowhere to go, she was exactly the type of girl he hung around the depot looking for: the type of girl he could entice and then pimp. 'This is a dangerous part of town to be in at night', he warned her, as he fell in step beside her. She barely glanced in his direction. 'A lot of people might try and take advantage of a young lady, like you. Especially if you got no money … no place to go. Maybe I could help.'

The young woman stopped and faced him, she would be one hell of a looker if she just cleaned herself up a bit, there could be a lot of money in this one. And damn! Was she vulnerable - those eyes! She wrapped her arms around herself, adding to her air of fragility and then, in a small voice, opened up to the man: 'I'm cold.'

'Well, warm is my middle name!' he began to take off his jacket and she hit him. He had never been hit like that, and this was a man who had been hit many times in his life. It was like a massive glove of solid steel had just collided with his jaw, he hit the ground. But this tiny, vulnerable looking, little girl did not stop hitting or kicking, and each blow was more painful than the last. Eventually, mercifully, he fell into unconsciousness, and only then did the woman rein in her onslaught. She reached down and took the jacket that he had proffered her; she slipped it on and went through the pockets, finding a wallet and some keys.

'Now I got money... and a place to go', she said, 'I think I'm gonna like it here.' And Faith the Vampire Slayer walked off into the night.

* * *

_Darla had blindfolded Angelus and was now leading him into a house. They were in Romania, and it was the anniversary of Angelus' siring. Her darling boy was now 145, a fledgling no longer. 145 years of bloodshed, cruelty and mayhem; it had been a whirlwind and she still thanked the providence that had led her to a small inn in Galway and the most vicious creature she had ever known. For this special occasion she had found him an extra special gift, better even than the cursed seer she had found him in London in 1860, though she hoped he would not sire this one as well. This new girl was young, and ripe, and plump - and terrified. And she was trussed up like a Christmas goose by the fireplace, ready to be unwrapped._

' _Can I take this thing off?' her boy laughed._

' _Not yet.'_

' _Can I take something else off?'_

_She kissed him and smiled, 'after you've unwrapped your gift.' She lifted his blindfold and showed him the girl. 'Happy Birthday, Angelus.'_

' _She's a gypsy?' His voice was wondering, as he took in the frightened woman trembling on the floor._

' _An innocent… and a favourite of her clan.'_

' _What would I do without you?'_

_Darla smiled again, proud of what she had found, proud of what she meant to this most depraved monster. 'Wither and die', she told him. 'But she's not just for you … I get to watch.'_

_Angelus changed into his demon face, and bit into the rounded thigh of the gypsy girl. Darla licked her lips as she looked on..._

* * *

Angel slammed Marquez back into his seat. 'The only way you're going to keep from getting killed is by doing the right thing.'

'Right thing for who?' Marquez was defiant, talking to the law never worked out for him and his.

'Next time they come for you, I won't be there, and neither will your boys - they've been cut up and incinerated. That what you want for you?'

* * *

'This guy's never gonna do it', Cordelia sighed, turning away from the blinds she had been peering through, to look back at Doyle, who was sitting at her desk, playing with his deck of cards. 'What a waste of a vision', she told him. 'Looks like you sacrificed a whole load of brain cells for nothing.'

The Irish man smiled at her. 'We already saved his life, Angel'll get him to talk, have some faith.'

'Is it really going that badly?' asked Wesley. The watcher was lying out on the green couch, his jacket draped over him, trying to catch up on some sleep.

'I knew it when you brought him in yesterday ...someone with that much body art is gonna have a different idea of civic duty.'

'Princess!' Doyle said, reproachfully. 'We don't judge books by their covers, yeah? Everyone can be redeemed, isn't that our mission statement?'

'What? You think just because the higher powers were able to tweak your guilty conscience that any old Joe Hoodlum can be made to see the light?'

'Well ...it's just a theory.'

Cordelia snorted.

'Well, I for one have faith in Angel,' Wesley told her. 'If anyone can convince him to testify …'

'Oh come on, guys! You cannot change a guy like that! What you see is what you get…'

Doyle looked a little hurt at her words, but she ignored him, she knew she was right and she wasn't talking about her friend. It wasn't her fault if he was going to get all sappy and over identify with someone like Marquez. 'If you scratch the surface, what do you find? More surface!' she finished up. Both men were looking at her reprovingly now. It was like she was the only non bleeding heart in the office.

'One could have said that about Angel, once upon a time,' Wesley sat up, and righted his glasses, fixing her in a stern stare.

But she was having none of it. 'Oh please! He was cursed by gypsies. What's Angel gonna do? Drag a whole load of them in here and get them to force a soul down this guy's throat?'

'Marquez is human and already has a soul', Wesley told her, stiffly. 'He may be a ruffian, but his soul means that - deep down - he has the desire to do what is right.'

Doyle nodded along, approvingly. 'Wesley's right.'

...

'No way man, I'm not doing it!' Marquez stormed out of Angel's office and through the outer room where the other three were sitting. Angel grabbed him by the collar, dragged him back inside and pushed him into his chair. 'Sit down' he commanded and slammed the door between the two offices shut.

...

Cordelia looked at her two male coworkers with an 'I told you so' expression on her face. Funnily enough, neither of them quite met her eye. 'Oh yeah,' she said, 'he's just like the Dalai Lama.'

* * *

Faith had left her stolen apartment when night fell. She hadn't gone out to do her sacred duty and hunt vampires, demons and the forces of darkness; she had gone out to cause trouble. She wound up at a club. It was a dark little place that sort of reminded her of The Bronze when there was no live band playing, but she buried those thoughts quickly - she wasn't thinking about that right now - and she joined the dance floor, grinding up with any guy that she passed. They all responded positively. Like the time her and Buffy had owned the dance floor the evening after they had slain an entire nest of vampires in the afternoon... But she wasn't thinking about that right now...

She saw a girl dancing up close to her boyfriend, making a big public show of being together. But you couldn't trust any one of them, they were all animals, men, from 'manimal' down to 'Mr. I loved The English Patient', and this one would be no more loyal than the rest of them, if something better was offered. Faith would show her. She pulled the girl off her boyfriend and replaced her with herself, wrapping the boy's arms around her waist and grinding against him.

'Excuse me!' the girl was annoyed.

Faith threw her a glance over her shoulder, still grinding: 'OK, you're excused'. She was right, Boyfriend had done nothing, he was enthusiastically dancing with his new partner.

'That's my boyfriend!' the girl told her.

'Yeah?' The slayer grabbed the collar of the boy's shirt and looked down it. 'You got your name on him? cos I don't see it anywhere.' Boyfriend still hadn't done anything. So predictable! Whenever a guy looked at her his priorities would - shift. It was what it was; loyalty came from puppies, not men.

'Billy! Do something', the girl complained.

'Yeah Billy! Do something', Faith urged. 'Like this!' She elbowed the girl in her face, the girl was slammed backwards and fell to the floor. Only then did Billy put on his white knight's armour. A bit too late, Billy Buddy!

'Hey!' he tried to hit Faith, but what was a puny little man against a slayer? She pushed him away and he was thrown back against the guy behind him. This second guy threw a punch and Billy returned it. The fight slowly spread outwards, like ripples on a pond and Faith danced her way through the chaos; giving the occasional kick or elbow if she reached a place of relative calm; stirring up the trouble as she moved across the dance floor. This was never how it was with Buffy, a public demonstration of power, one true warrior amongst rabble. Buffy never got it, she wanted to melt into the background, fit in, be normal. She never understood that having power made her better, but this was indisputable now, as the normals fought and struggled and writhed on the floor and the superchick danced above them. If only Buffy could have understood... _But she wasn't thinking about that_...

* * *

Doyle was walking Cordelia home. It was a pleasant, warm, late April evening and, as they got into her little apartment complex, the noise and lights of the traffic died away and the sweet perfume of the Jasmine bushes wafted across the atmosphere. Cordelia had slipped her arm through Doyle's, the way she always seemed to do, and as they approached her front door he was feeling himself to be a very content half demon indeed. She wasn't his girlfriend, yet, because he owed her money and that was a terrible way to start a relationship, and they were both determined to get this right. But they did have an understanding, and linking her arm with his was as close as they could get to holding hands at the moment. But hand holding would come, and kissing … and other stuff of a far more intimate nature.

They reached her door and she stood with her back to it, saying goodbye. This bit was always awkward. Other moments they were incredibly relaxed and comfortable and companionable with each other, but when it came to say goodbye the tension would rise and things would feel more like they had in the old days, before their various excruciatingly honest conversations with each other. When it came to parting, it always felt like it was time to kiss, like that was the only way to round off their day together. Only they couldn't. So instead, they hovered awkwardly and carried on talking for a bit too long, not knowing when to stop without the seal a kiss would put on the evening. Eventually, Dennis would take pity on them and open the door himself, gently telling Cordelia in his own ghostly fashion that it was time to come inside. And, with a backwards glance, she would go in, the door would close; and Doyle would look at it for a few moments before he also tore himself away and went home.

But Dennis had yet to take pity on them and so their conversation was continuing. 'Well, ...I guess I'll see you tomorrow,... when we'll find out who's right about Marquez and his body art.'

'I guess.'

'It's going to be me … I'd put money on it.'

'I'm not gonna take that bet, darlin', I'm doing the whole clean living thing, remember? I don't wanna fall back into bad habits right away.'

'Right.'

'Besides, if you win, I can't pay y'. And then you'll have to break my legs...'

'Ha! That's true.' They looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes holding contact for just a shade too long. And then Doyle inhaled sharply, and Cordelia flushed a very pretty pink. She broke off her gaze and glanced down at her feet. Doyle shuffled a little awkwardly, and scratched the back of his head as he wondered what to do next. Dennis must be enjoying watching the sexual tension or something, this must be like a live action soap opera for him.

'Well ...I guess…' Cordelia started to say.

'Hey, Cordelia?' Doyle interrupted. There was something he wanted to know before she left him for the night.

'Yeah'

'D'y really mean that about if you scratch the surface of guys like Marquez there's just more surface?'

'Jeez, Doyle,' she rolled her eyes, 'over identify, much? You are _not_ a guy like Marquez.'

Doyle shrugged and shuffled his feet.

'I'm serious!' Cordelia protested. 'Not least because you are thankfully lacking in tattoos.'

'I don't like needles.'

' _You_ were chosen by the higher powers, out of every possible demon in the world, to have the visions and help people in trouble. You're like a guy, demon version of Buffy - but without the super strength - and with even worse taste in clothes - and I did not think _that_ was possible 'til I met you!'

'Buffy's badly dressed?'

'Big time! But my point is that you have more than tragic fashion sense in common with her, you're both people who were chosen to help others because the universe itself saw something special in you. FYI I see it in you as well, her - not so much. '

Doyle chuckled appreciatively. 'That's not fair, Cordy, she's saved your life loads of times.'

'Well...OK, maybe she's special too', Cordelia agreed, begrudgingly. 'But either way, people handed a destiny by... whoever it is that hands out destinies... are not the same as gangbanging street rats like Marquez - even if they do something stupid along the way.'

'Stupid like letting a whole bunch o' their family members get killed by The Scourge? Or agreeing to sell their vampire boss to an underground gladiator ring?'

'Exactly like that. If I've learnt anything from Angel it's that you never run out of opportunities for redemption, but you've got to work for it. You're a good guy, Doyle, and there is definitely more to you than meets the eye. Marquez...I'll believe that when I see it.'

'You really think that?'

'I think it, I say it. You know that.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah.'

They stood smiling at each other, wondering how to leave, not sure who would break the moment first. They were only inches apart, and looking right into each others eyes, again. It really wouldn't take much to lean forward and kiss her. Their lips were practically level anyway. Doyle tilted his head to one side, Cordelia seemed to breathe in, expectantly, and she tilted her head the other way. They moved slowly, slowly, closing the gap between them…

...Then Dennis decided to open the door.

The door giving way caused Cordy to stumble backwards, the space between them opened up again and the moment passed. 'Well, night then' she said in an overly bright voice, her biggest smile plastered on her face, covering any disappointment or turmoil she might be feeling. She went inside and shut the door...

'...Night, princess.'


	38. Five by Five: Part Two

Angel stood in the doorway of the courtroom, holding onto Marquez. The Wolfram and Hart Lawyer, up at the front, was filing for a dismissal of all charges against his client who, he claimed, was an upstanding, law abiding citizen. The Lawyer turned and caught sight of Angel and Marquez… he trailed off. Angel recognised this particular one, it was the smooth, handsome, but tiny, attorney that had represented Russell Winters: Lindsey MacDonald. Last time they had met, Angel had kicked Lindsey's very lucrative vampire client out of the window and into the sunshine. He imagined the Lawyer would remember him as well.

The prosecuting attorney stood up in delight: 'your honour, the state calls Mr. Marquez.'

Marquez walked to the front of the courtroom, took to the witness stand and was sworn in. The whole time, Angel and Lindsey never stopped staring at each other.

* * *

Back in his office, Lindsey was furious... but he had to try and explain what had happened to his superiors, who were not known for being understanding. He apologised profusely and took full responsibility; promising that he would sort the situation out himself; that Angel would not be allowed to cause trouble like this again. He hung up the phone and one his fellow associates walked in. Lee Mercer had also been bested by that irritating vampire with a soul and his little ragtag gang of minions, before now. Wolfram and Hart did not, as a general rule, encourage friendships and camaraderie amongst its legal team, but in this instance Lindsey knew that Lee would understand. 'I hate it when things go wrong and I've got no one to blame', he told the other man.

Lee smiled a supercilious smirk at him and threw some papers down on the desk. 'I think I've found the solution to our problems', he said.

* * *

As Lee strode through the main lobby of Wolfram and Hart, he found Lilah Morgan falling into step with him. 'Lee! I heard you thought of a good way to deal with our friendly neighbourhood vamp.'

'No. I thought of a great way. Much more final than trying to buy his little sidekick.'

'In fairness, I wanted the half breed for his own sake, pissing off Angel was only ever a bonus. So… how did you find out there's a rogue slayer in town?'

'It's my job', Lee told her. 'I've read the police reports … she's been a busy little beaver.'

'But you don't know where she is?' Lilah clarified.

'I will.'

Lilah opened up the manilla folder she was carrying. 'I already do. I'll make contact.'

'It's my deal', Lee protested. 'I'll make contact.'

'Let me think…?' she laughed, sneeringly. 'No'

'Why not?'

'Your people skills. You don't have any'

'Bitch'

'See? Now if you behave, I'll let you ride in the Limo.'

* * *

'No we don't do divorce cases', Cordelia said into the telephone. 'No it isn't about the money … oh, it's about _that_ much money?'

Doyle gave her a disapproving look from his place across the desk, but she flapped her hands at him to tell him to shush up and started making notes on her pad. 'How soon can we meet? …. Yeah I know where that is…'

Angel and Wesley came up in the elevator, arriving back from court. She wound up her conversation: 'OK, we'll see you there tomorrow, thanks for calling. Bye.' She hung up and glared at Doyle, daring him to say anything, then she turned to the new arrivals. 'So how'd it go?'

'We won!' Wesley told her triumphantly.

'Gang guy testified?' she was astonished.

'Stood up and told the truth', Angel confirmed.

'What did I tell you both?' Cordelia asked turning to Wesley and Doyle with a look of reproach for their lack of faith in Marquez.

'That he never would in a million years.'

'Y'know I'm sorry I didn' take that bet, after all.'

'Tch!' Cordelia snorted, disgruntled with their accurate memories. 'Well I have some good news too', she told her boss. 'We just got a new client - and this one can afford to pay!'

'What's the case?'

'Uh… I'm still in the gathering information phase right now', she lied. Doyle raised her eyebrows at her and she scowled at him, once more daring him to talk. He didn't.

'We're meetin' for lunch tomorrow', he supplied instead. He had no wish to upset Cordelia, Angel could do that tomorrow when he refused to take the case.

'So are you happy with how things went?' Cordelia asked her boss. She turned to the other two. 'You can always tell when he's happy, his scowl is... slightly less … scowly.'

Doyle smiled at her, Wesley ignored her. 'That young man was lucky he ran into you', he said to the vampire.

'He's lucky Doyle had a vision … but all he needed was a bit of guidance, a push in the right direction.'

'I only wonder how Wolfram and Hart will push back', the watcher mused.

* * *

Lilah had found Faith at another dark club, had bought her a drink, and then suggested they go outside. If the lawyer was nervous to be in the company of a psychotic vampire slayer, she didn't let on. Lilah was always in charge; you didn't get to be a female associate at Wolfram and Hart by 32 if you couldn't take charge and hide your fear. Especially if you didn't have any children to sacrifice.

'Yeah, I guess we could go somewhere and talk', Faith was saying. 'But I'm more of a doer than a talker.'

'I think you misunderstood my intentions', Lilah told her.

'No, I think you misunderstood mine.' The slayer stopped abruptly and turned to face the older woman, backing her into the chain link fence they had been walking past. 'I like that watch', she said. 'Is it diamond?'

'Faith', Lilah said to her in a calm, controlled voice. But hearing her name just set the girl off even further.

'How do you know my name? I don't think I told you.' She thumped the fence beside Lilah's head and the lawyer winced, this girl was strong! But she collected herself and began again.

'Well, we know all about you, who you are and what you do. We're also aware of the troubles you've been having. We think we can help bring some order back into your life.'

' _We_ do, do we? Who is _we_? And why do they know about me when I know _Jack_ about you?' She grabbed Lilah by the throat, forcing her right into the fence so that the metal pricked into her back, and then she began to squeeze with her slayer strength. But this was not enough to undermine a woman of Lilah's calibre.

'Green...' the lawyer choked out. Faith stopped, looking confused. '...Is my favourite colour,' Lilah continued. Faith understood and relaxed her grip a little, Lilah's voice grew bolder 'I look good in diamonds and' … Faith had all but let go, a car drove up behind her and stopped, 'I love riding in Limousines', Lilah finished.

The door of the Limo opened and Lee Mercer leaned out. 'Faith… can we talk?'

'I like black', Faith said to Lilah, as she turned away from her and got into the car. Lilah smiled as she followed on.

* * *

_Darla returned to the house. She hadn't seen Angelus this past night and she was worried, but here he was, by the fireplace where he'd killed the gypsy girl._

' _Not everyone screams', he said._

_She frowned, he was huddled against the wall, she'd never seen him like this. 'What?'_

' _When you kill them … some just stand there - frozen .. whilst others…'_

' _What are you doing?' She smiled in anticipation. 'Are we playing a game?'_

' _The children - they usually scream.'_

_Her smile grew wider as she thought of it: 'hmmm yes', she moaned, 'like little pigs. Have you brought me some?'_

_Angelus turned to face her, he looked ragged, bedraggled and there was something in his eyes … something haunted. He raised his hands to his head and gripped at his long hair. 'How long have we been killing now? 145 years? We drank them all … and they're all dead.'_

_She approached him and tried to pull his hands away from his face, he had never acted this way before and it made her nervous. 'What are you doing? Where have you been?' A sudden shaft of ice pierced her heart as she considered a possibility, and she knew jealousy for the first time in 145 years. 'Have you met someone else?', she demanded. The crazed seer, much as Darla had disliked her joining the family, had never caused this kind of reaction - and she was far too wrapped up in that ridiculous new boy of hers to be a threat now. This was something else entirely._

_Angelus gripped her shoulders and leaned against her and, as he did, Darla sensed something wrong inside of him, something that scared her, though she did not yet understand. 'No. Let go. Let go of me!' She pushed him away. 'What happened to you? Angelus what happened?'_

' _The gypsy girl you brought me - her people found out...they did something to me.'_

' _A spell?'_

' _It's funny… all the people I've maimed ...I've killed… you wouldn't think I could remember them all. But I can. Every single one.' He stumbled towards Darla, 'help me' he pleaded. She put her hand against his face and it all suddenly became clear, horribly clear. Although she had not breathed since the 1600s, she inhaled sharply now, horrified._

_'The spell? They gave you a soul … a filthy soul. No!' she scratched his face and tore herself away from him in anguish. Her darling boy, her most depraved monster, her vicious, violent, brutal creature of the night: infected with a human soul. It was too cruel to bear._

' _Darla!' he reached for her again._

' _No get away from me!' She picked up a wooden chair and raised it, blocking the space between them so this twisted travesty of her boy could not get near her._

' _You brought her here', Angelus accused, admonished._

_She smashed the chair and picked up one of its legs and then lunged at him, hoping to drive the splintered wood deep into his heart. This thing would be dust, and she could keep her precious memories of their time together, intact._

' _I am like you', he told her as he avoided the plunging stake._

' _You're not like anything! Get away from me, get out! I'll kill you.'_

_He stumbled from the house and down the street, glancing back at her to see her standing in the doorway with her makeshift stake raised. She watched him stagger away from her down the cobbled alleyway and remembered, clear as day, the way he had stumbled from the tavern and into the alley where he had died. She remembered the night, a century and a half ago, when she had told him that the love that infected his heart would continue to dwell there, even when it was no longer beating. He had been so confused, so very young, and she had shown him her world and taken him into her own heart. And now that unbeating heart was breaking..._

* * *

Inside the swish offices of Wolfram and Hart, Faith paced the floor; she felt caged here, so high up, in such a formal setting; like she couldn't escape if she needed to. Faith hated to be cooped up, she needed to know where her exits were. The short lawyer who had met them at the law firm was talking, telling her about her own predicament, which she already knew: '... What it doesn't mention is that you're a slayer,' he finished up.

'Which is why we find you so appealing', Lilah told her

'You have a problem', Lindsey told her, 'we have a problem. If a small service is rendered, I believe we can get you off your felony charge.'

'So who am I supposed to kill?' she was straight to the point. She'd done cold blooded assassinations before. Her first was that little demon who had offered her and Buffy the Books of Ascension. She'd just kept stabbing. That first one had frightened her, and he'd fought back. The last one had been that cuddly old volcanologist, Lester. He hadn't understood and had died without a fight, just a frightened cry of anguish. She'd been used to killing by then, hadn't given it a second thought. But now she remembered how friendly he'd been when she'd arrived, not in a creepy way though, like a nice old grandpa. And how scared he'd been when he realised this pretty, young girl from the Mayor's office brought only death… But she wasn't thinking about that ...

'Please understand', Lindsey was saying, 'that we would never advocate the killing of another human being - his name is Angel - he's something of a private...'

'No problem.'

'Don't you want to know anything more?' Lee asked, he sounded impatient, she didn't care for that.

'Yeah, apart from getting me off, how much are you paying me?'

'It might behoove you to know a bit more about the intended … before we discuss remuneration', Lee said.

'Huh?' She did not like his tone.

'Payment...I want to make sure that you understand that this firm is not connected to anything that you do. It's my ass on the line here, I don't want you to make me look bad.'

Faith grabbed him by the neck and slammed his face into the desk. 'How do you look now?' As she continued to pound him head first into the hard wood she carefully did not think about the way Angel had tried to talk to her after her first kill, had tried to connect with her. Or the time she and the Mayor had tried to take his soul away and, for the first time, she thought she had something over Buffy. She had thought she could win. How her and Angelus had chained Buffy up, ready to torture her, and how she had enjoyed kissing him, pressing herself against him, making Buffy watch. Taking Angel from Buffy had felt sweet, but it had been more than that, thinking she had someone of her own, someone she could share the dark side of slaying with. A friend. A lover. Everything Little Miss Tightly Wound took for granted. But then it had turned to ashes, Angel was lying, and Buffy had won. Faith could never take anything away from her, could never have what she had … But she wasn't thinking about that...

As Lee's face smashed into the desk, the cartilage of his nose cracking and breaking, Lindsey and Lilah smirked at one another. 'She shows initiative', Lilah approved. Lindsey flicked open his cell and dialled his secretary: 'Jesse, I think you had better make it three for dinner, instead of four.'

* * *

The elevator at the four seasons L.A opened up onto the restaurant level, revealing the four members of team Angel. Doyle whistled. 'This is pretty fancy, darlin', y'sure this is where we're supposed to meet?'

'He's a very, very rich client, but he doesn't have much time, so he can only meet for lunch.'

'I just feel like maybe I shouldda worn something a bit fancier y'know?'

She glanced at his battered, brown, leather jacket and his dark red bowling shirt, with its top button located somewhere around nipple height, thus revealing way, _way_ more chest hair than was ever strictly necessary to show in polite company. 'Yeah, that wouldn't have been a bad idea, maybe Doyle should wait in the car?' At least Angel was a snappy dresser - and Wesley could always be counted on to wear a suit. Naturally, she looked fabulous.

'So what kind of demons are we talking about here?' Angel wanted to know, unimpressed by the luxury of his surroundings. On second thoughts, maybe Doyle could stick around, he could be useful backup now it was time to come clean.

'It's - not exactly - a demon thing,' she admitted.

'Not exactly?' Wesley was bemused. 'Then what is it?'

'It's sort of a … husband and wife … breaking up … thing.'

'It's a divorce case', Doyle clarified.

'Divorce? That seems rather seedy!' the watcher protested.

'You're kidding?' Angel was incredulous.

'What's wrong with a divorce case?' Cordelia wanted to know.

'She's got a point, the man can pay.' The half demon was pleased to receive Cordelia's sweetest, brightest smile for backing her up, and didn't care at all about the disapproving, disappointed looks he was getting from his male colleagues.

'It's not what we do', his vampire boss pointed out, complaining.

'Maybe it's time we branched out, bud. We can't help the hopeless if we can't afford to keep the lights on.' Cordy positively beamed at him.

'Apparently his wife is a real witch - that's something', she offered. 'Come on, at least talk to him. Oh and we should probably pick up the tab. Nothing says success less like splitting the bill.'

'I didn't bring any money', the vampire told her.

Cordelia was exasperated. 'OK, Elvis. When you're a big star you can get away with not carrying any cash. Until then ... Looks like this will have to go on _my_ credit card. Why am I the only one around here who's fiscally responsible? You're 200 years old, get an investment portfolio already! And you two...' she rounded on Wesley and Doyle 'You're, like, thirty. You should really be financially sound by now.'

'I'm nowhere near thirty!' Doyle cried.

'Jeez, it's a good job my next commercial is being filmed next week, so one of us can earn some real cash for a change, cover company expenses.' As she finished talking, she registered a sound - like a bolt leaving a crossbow. But that sound had no place inside the Four Seasons.

Angel suddenly spun around on the spot. He caught a flying stake in mid air and snapped it in two. Had he not turned it would have buried straight through his back and into his heart.

'That was so cool!'

Doyle didn't understand. A young woman, maybe Cordy's age, was stood just across the room from them, she was holding a crossbow over her shoulder. Clearly this was Angel's assailant. But the thing that really confused him was the way the vampire and Cordelia and Wesley were staring at her, like they couldn't believe their eyes. Like they had seen a ghost. Crossbow aside, she seemed like any other girl. He couldn't work out why she would cause so much dismay.

'This is gonna be fun,' crossbow girl said, 'see you later!' And she turned and ran through the hotel, remaining in the sunlight that flooded through the windows, until she had disappeared from view.

'My God', said Wesley, sounding horrified: 'Faith.'

'I thought she was in a coma', Angel said.

'Pretty lively coma', Cordelia commented.

'Uh ...guys?' Doyle raised a hand to ask his question, they turned and looked at him. 'Who's Faith?'


	39. Five by Five: Part Three

'So - lemme get this straight...' Doyle was having trouble understanding the story Cordelia was telling him. Angel was on the phone to Sunnydale. Wesley was pacing the floor. 'Buffy _died,_ but she was brought back?'

'Uhuh … by Xander. She was drowned by the Master and Xander resuscitated her. That was the night I found out about vampires.'

'But another slayer was called?'

'Yep, Kendra. We didn't know for a long time, but then she turned up just as Drusilla was restored to health. It was this whole big thing.'

'But then she died?'

'Around Finals of our junior year. Drusilla killed her, the cops thought Buffy did it. Buffy killed Angel, then she ran away because she was dealing with being a super freak with a super freak boyfriend - and the whole being wanted for murder bit. It was an even bigger thing.'

'And this was when Faith was called.'

'Exactly. And she was a wild living, crazy slaying, ex boyfriend boinking mess. I mean, at first she seemed OK, everything was "five by five".' Cordelia made quote marks with her fingers as she said the slayer's catch phrase.

'Five what by five what?'

'Nobody knows! So yeah, she was all two by four or whatever, fighting the fight, slaying the demons with Buffy. But then things got weird between them.'

'How come?'

Cordelia glanced towards Angel, who was still on the phone - glowering. 'A certain vampire, who shall remain nameless, returned from a hell dimension and Buffy neglected to mention this. We were all superfreaked when we found out, because, Angelus? - he likes to stalk Buffy … but he likes to _kill_ her friends. Even Giles was angry, probably something to do with the whole Angel killed his girlfriend and then tortured him for hours thing. Anyway, Faith and Xander...' She broke off to snort in derision, remembering her ex and his unceasing jealousy towards Angel - _hello!_ Was Cordelia not a much better deal than Buffy? '...Ran off to kill Angel. Buffy ran off to protect him. Punch, punch, kick, kick, slayer on slayer fight and suddenly they don't trust each other any more. They tried to get along after that but then ...'

'Faith turned evil?'

'She killed the deputy Mayor and tried to blame Buffy. Then she started working for the Mayor in secret.'

'I know no one likes local government, darlin', but working for the town council isn't _exactly_ the definition of evil.'

'Duh! The Mayor was totally evil. He was like, a hundred years old, and he'd built Sunnydale especially to be a demon town. Then, at Graduation day, he ascended.'

'Hang on, back up there, he did what? Isn't ascending when you become a pure demon?'

Cordelia nodded slowly. 'He became a big snake. We blew him up, we blew up the whole school actually.'

'Is that why your diploma is all burned?'

'Uhuh.'

'So where was Faith, in all this?'

'Oh, well, that's why today has come as a total shock. Faith tried to kill Angel, she poisoned him and the only antidote was to drain the blood of a slayer.'

'Poetic'

'Whatever. So Buffy went to kill Faith so she could feed her to Angel.'

'Man, this story is _dark!_ '

'We grew up on a hellmouth fighting monsters - what, you think it was like a kid's movie?'

Doyle held his hands up to surrender to her storytelling and she continued, a glare telling him not to interrupt her so pointlessly again. 'So the two slayers fight, and Buffy managed to stab Faith, but I think they must have been on the roof or something, because Faith jumped off and Buffy had to her feed herself to Angel instead.'

Doyle whistled and Cordelia glared again, but she continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. 'Faith suffered massive head trauma in her fall and wound up in a coma. _Everyone said she would never wake up._ '

'But now here she is … ' Doyle finished thoughtfully.

'Here she is… and it looks like Little Miss Psycho Slayer is picking up right where she left off, trying to kill Angel.'

'Why Angel?' Doyle wanted to know.

'What better way to hurt Buffy?'

...

Angel slammed the phone down. 'Giles said she left Sunnydale about a week ago, her mental state was borderline psychotic.'

'That explains her outfit', Cordelia quipped, but her boss wasn't in the mood to hear it.

Nor was Wesley: 'This isn't right.'

'When a whacked out slayer tries to kill your boss? that's very wrong,' Cordelia agreed with him.

'No. I mean, I was her watcher, Giles should have told me, immediately, when she woke up.'

'Maybe he was too busy trying to stop her from, you know, murdering everyone?'

'He didn't know she would come here or come after me,' Angel told them. 'He was worried about Buffy.'

'Is she OK?' Her former friend wanted to know.

'Yeah,' Angel said briefly.

'What can we do?' Cordelia always ragged on Buffy, but whenever it was really important, she was there to help no questions asked.

'I need you to track her down - look into police reports, beatings, killings, anything that's happened in the past week. Doyle? Can you search out everything you can on the net? We need to find a location, maybe near a bus or a train station.'

'Sure thing, man, anythin'.'

'Then I want the three of you to make yourselves scarce. Go to Doyle's, she'll have a harder time tracking him because she doesn't know him. Cordelia, Wes you could be targets, I don't want anything to happen.'

'You're being targeted by a psychotic killer! I'm not going to run and hide,' Wesley protested.

'I like the hiding plan!' said Cordelia, 'me and Doyle will do the hiding plan.'

'Maybe we should band together… strength in numbers and all that?' Doyle wondered.

'No,' Angel said, flatly.

'You might never have been up close and personal with a slayer, Doyle, but _believe me_ when I tell you that _you and Wesley_ do not class as 'strength in numbers' against someone with powers like Faith. There's nothing you can do against her - except be afraid and die. So don't do that. Hide. with me.' She sat down with him behind the desk and nudged him into starting his searching. 'The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go to your place.'

Wesley was not so easy to convince. 'We're a team,' he said to Angel, determined not to leave the vampire by himself, determined to have a hand in the capturing of Faith. This could clear his reputation, wash away the past. He could go home again. Angel wasn't taking that away from him.

Except he was: 'we're not a team, I'm your boss. You do as I say', Angel told him.

'You're taking this very personally', Wesley retorted.

'Well, she shot at my own, personal, back, so yeah.'

'Did she do something to Buffy?'

Cordelia and Doyle stopped what they were doing and looked up.

'Giles said it was rough,' Angel admitted.

'I'm sorry,' Wesley told him. 'But you can't let your emotions rule you now, or one of you will end up dead.'

'Yes, that's what she wants.'

'That's not good enough. She isn't a demon, Angel! She's a sick, sick girl. If there is even a _chance_ she can be reasoned with…'

'There was!' Angel snapped. 'Last year I had a shot at getting through to her. I was pulling her back from the brink. But then some British guy kidnapped her and made damn sure she'd never trust a living soul again.'

'Angel', Cordelia said in a voice that made it sound like she thought her boss was being highly unreasonable. 'It's not Wesley's fault that _some_ British guy kidnapped her and…' she trailed off. Doyle was nudging her and shaking his head. Angel was staring at her waiting for her to cotton on, Wesley was looking away. 'Oh,' she said to Wesley 'that was you'. She turned back to Angel, 'carry on.'

'There's really no need,' Wesley said.

'Just get to work … find her. And then get lost.' Angel left the office and went down to his apartment to appraise his weapon choices. Doyle and Cordelia glanced at each other uncomfortably and then silently got on with their research. Wesley sat down on the couch and remained very still, brooding.

* * *

As Angel combed through his weapons chest, deciding which ones he would need to go up against a rogue slayer, he heard a noise in the offices above. He knew that his three friends had printed all the reports they could find and then made themselves scarce, choosing to do the bulk of their research from the relative safety of Doyle's apartment. So he was supposed to be alone. But he wasn't. He made his way up the stairs.

The blinds of the outer office opened as he walked in and the space was flooded with sunlight. The vampire shied away, stepping back into the darkness of his own room. 'Hey, baby come give us a hug!' Faith was stood in the pool of bright sunshine. For all her brash words, and her deliberately seeking him out, the slayer was still hiding from him - hiding in the light.

'I was hoping you'd stop by,' Angel told her. The mad slayer pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. 'What's this?' he asked, 'wooden bullets?'

'Good idea, I never thought of that, but no', she tossed the gun to him and he caught it. 'This is for you. You know I'm gonna kill you, slowly and inventively, so I'm giving you one chance to…'

Angel fired at her, she didn't flinch. 'Blanks' he said, disappointed, and threw the gun back towards her.

'You didn't shoot to kill,' she said. 'We're gonna have to up this game.'

'What game are we playing, Faith? Boredom? Revenge?'

'Dude, I'm getting paid … they hate you nearly as much as I do.' ...Did she hate Angel? She'd tried to kill him before but that had never been about him, and it was the attempt to save him that had led to her winding up in a coma - but then that final grudge fight had never been about her...

She'd hated him when she'd realised he'd played her, along with Buffy, tricking her into revealing the mayor's secrets. And she'd been angry when she hadn't been able to seduce him in the first place, he was so Buffy whipped. Guys were supposed to move on when they found something better, they had no loyalty. Angel's faithfulness to the original Sunnydale slayer told Faith that he thought Buffy was better than her… and that hurt… all she'd ever wanted was to be like … But she wasn't thinking about that... Hatred was a good motivation. It was all she had, it was what would get her through. So yeah, she hated Angel. She didn't have a choice.

'What if I enjoy killing you?' the vampire asked.

She smiled her sultry pout at him. 'Well just don't enjoy it too much, I'd really get off on you losing your soul over me - You think B would? Ha! Think fast lover boy 'cause if you don't do me, I will do you.' She shot him in the chest and the force of the bullet caused him to stumble backwards. 'Gee, guess that one wasn't a blank. Let the games begin.' She jumped through the window and the glass shattered to the floor.

* * *

Angel walked into the lobby of Wolfram and Hart. He was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, indistinguishable from all the other attorneys and paralegals that passed him by on their way through the building. A lawyer, leaning on the front desk signing a document turned around and pointed at him: 'You!' Angel stopped, waiting. '...Were in the Gruber meeting,' the lawyer finished.

Angel didn't breathe a sigh of relief, because he was a vampire, but his insides did relax a little. 'Right,' he agreed.

'What the hell is going on with those people?' the lawyer wanted to know.

'I know … it's …'

The Lawyer's cell phone rang and he answered it, Angel stood quietly waiting until he was done. It was only a short conversation that consisted mostly of 'yeah's' and barked orders. A minute later he snapped the phone shut.

'Well it was great talking to you again … email me,' and the Lawyer walked away leaving Angel stood by the desk. The vampire shook his head and then went to find Lindsey MacDonald's office.

...

The office was empty when he got there, so he sat behind the desk and rooted through the papers that lay out on the top, searching.

'Don't you have any respect for the law?' Lindsey stood in the doorway, watching him.

'Not really. Where's Faith?' He got up and walked towards the small lawyer.

'Is that name meant to mean something?'

'Your new employee.'

'Uhuh, listen, Angel, this law firm spares no expense with state of the art security. We have vampire detectors that go off the moment one of your kind enters the building.' A security guard entered the office. 'It's good to know this stuff works', Lindsey smiled.

Angel punched out the guard. 'Seems like a waste of money to me.' He left before more guards arrived, annoyed at having failed to find Faith.

* * *

'But why do we all have to come?' Wesley was complaining as he followed Doyle and Cordelia through the complex to Cordy's apartment. He was reading some of the print outs as he walked.

'I just want to pick up a few things,' she said. 'And we shouldn't split up with a demented slayer on the loose.'

'What happened to me and Wesley do not count as 'strength in numbers' against someone like Faith?'

'You don't, Little Irish man, but I'm not going anywhere alone. Angel said me and Wes might be targets. _I'm always a target!_ The one thing I absolutely know about crisis situations is you do _not_ walk off on your own.'

He had to admit there was truth to her words, if anyone should know it was Cordelia. She seemed to hold the record for number of times a single person could be kidnapped or held hostage, which was an impressive feat seeming as Doyle himself had been kidnapped three times since last November. 'Is there anything of interest in those reports?' he asked Wesley.

'Assaults, fights, arrests. Apparently Faith managed to break a policeman's jaw with his own handcuffs.'

'Charming sorta girl.'

'For Faith, that is charm,' Cordelia told him. She unlocked the door but it immediately banged shut. 'Dennis!'

'Your ghost?' Wesley asked her.

'Uhuh, usually he doesn't stop me getting inside.'

'No, he usually waits until just the wrong moment to open the door and ruin a fella's evenin',' Doyle pointed out.

Cordelia pulled a face at him and then tried the door again. 'Dennis, come on! What gives? It's just Doyle and Wesley!' This time the door opened and the three of them entered.

'Just grab a few things, please Cordelia', Wesley said to her, 'we're not going on safari. I'm going to try and call Angel again.'

'I've got a little problem.' The three of them froze as Faith stepped into view. 'Now I don't think Angel's really got his head in the game . But I think you three', she turned her pout on each one of them individually, 'might be key.' She turned back to Doyle, who was stood in between the other two. 'Hi, I'm Faith. I don't believe we've met, who the hell are you?' Doyle said nothing. Cordelia edged closer towards him. He realised she did that, not to keep herself safe, but to try and keep him safe; to protect him, as the mad slayer appeared to have singled him out. There was no one in the world braver than his Cordy.

'Faith, listen to me...' Wesley tried to reason with her, he tried to be her watcher, one last time.

'Shut up, Wesley!' she snapped, taking her eyes off Doyle. The half demon felt himself relax as he ceased to be the object of her scrutiny. Not that that made him safe, Faith could kill them all in short order without breaking a sweat.

'It's not too late', her watcher was saying to her.

'For what? Cappuccino? 'Cause I find it keeps me up all night.'

'For me to help you', he told her simply.

'Yes, we want to help you,' Cordelia agreed. The slayer elbowed her in the face, right in the eye socket; and she went down, unconscious before she hit the floor.

'Cordelia!' the little guy that she didn't know was straight on the floor, beside the prone girl. Points to the man, his priority didn't shift when he saw Faith, he was loyal to Cordy, which was more than stupid Xander had been. Xander had disregarded his girlfriend and panted over the new slayer when she had arrived in town. Maybe this new one Cordelia had found was better, even if he was shorter. Or maybe, little guy's loyalty to Cordelia was because he thought she was better than Faith. Like Angel felt about Buffy. But Cordy wasn't even a slayer, like B, Cordelia was a nobody. Buffy and Faith were the special … no! _she wasn't thinking about that_...

To stop any unwelcome thoughts that she might have, she kicked the little guy full in the face and watched him crumple, right next to his precious Cordelia. Violence always made her feel better, she could think clearer now. 'So it's just me and you, now, Wesley...'

* * *

_Angelus wandered the streets, his hunger gnawed and burned inside of him. He knew what he needed, what he wanted. He could just take it. Maybe Darla would take him back if he could just take it. This is what he did, this is what he was._

_A group of young people, a few men and a woman left an inn, he staggered towards them and one of the men, thinking he was a beggar, threw a coin at him. 'I don't want your money!' Angelus threw the coin back. 'I want her!' He changed into his vampire face and the woman screamed. 'He is a monster!'_

' _I am a monster, I am a monster!' Angelus shouted. The three men dragged him into the alley, away from the woman. She could hear the noises of fighting and she drew closer 'Rudolph?' she asked 'Are you alright?'_

_But it was Angelus that emerged from the alleyway and he grabbed hold of her, pushed her against the wall and sank his teeth into her neck..._

* * *

Angel arrived at Cordelia's apartment to find the door open and Cordelia and Doyle lying unconscious on the ground. As he entered, Cordy began to stir. She looked up at her boss and then down at Doyle, and cried out.

The vampire ran to her and helped her up, and led her to the sofa. 'Is he OK?' she asked, but as she sat down she heard the groaning that was the tell tale sign of her friend returning to consciousness. Angel led his other friend to the sofa, and the half demon collapsed onto it beside the girl. 'She was already here!' Cordelia told Angel 'I didn't know, I made them come here!'

''S not your fault, Cordy,' Doyle mumbled holding his head, 'you didn' know.'

'What about Wesley?' asked Cordelia 'is he OK?'

Angel glanced around the small apartment: 'he's not here.'


	40. Five by Five: Part Four

Faith had taken Wesley back to her stolen apartment. She had him gagged and bound to a chair in the middle of the room. Beside him was a table with a wide array of cruel looking implements laid out on top. The watcher was beaten and bruised and sagging in his chair, held up only by the ropes that tied him there. Faith paced the room in front of him, she had energy to burn, she liked a fast, violent kill. But torture was slow. She was going to have to ramp things up a little.

She stopped pacing and jumped onto his lap. Wesley let out a muffled scream. To the maddened girl, it sounded good. She licked her fingers and rubbed the swelling under Wesley's eye. 'All these little cuts and bruises, Wesley, it just brings out the mother in me.' she gripped his face between both her hands and then slapped him 'Come on. Now now, don't poop out on me yet, damn it! Otherwise this will all be over way too fast. And you'll be dead and I'll be ...bored.' She gripped his head again 'Come on, Wesley!' She tried for an English accent. 'Where's that stiff upper lip?' it sounded more Indian.

She got off him and resumed her pacing. 'Now there are your five basic torture groups,' she told him, 'we've done blunt...' She eyed all his bruises, and the way he slumped in his chair, unable to hold himself upright. Blunt had worked out pretty good, but it was more of a gentle torture, there was worse to come: 'that leaves sharp, hot, cold and loud. Which do you want next? Do you have a preference?'

Unbelievably the watcher nodded. She was willing to go with this, and pulled the gag down. 'Alright, Wesley! It's always better with audience participation. May I take your order please?'

He spat on the floor, just to the side of her. 'I was your watcher, Faith, I know the real you.' Was he still really trying to play the guardian, the teacher? Did he still think he could get through to her if he just showed enough authority? She moved closer towards him, to listen to what he had to say… this delusional man who didn't realise that their roles had flipped, and that she held all the power now…

'Even if you kill me,' he said to her, 'I want you to know...just one thing I want you to remember.'

She leaned it towards him, 'what's that, love?'

'You are a piece of sh-'

She didn't listen to the end of the sentence, didn't let him finish. She stuffed the gag back in his mouth. Dammit! 'You should talk, huh?' she said to him, 'I guess I'll have to try a little harder.'

She turned to her table of torture devices and scanned what she had. There was a picture frame beside them and that gave her an idea. She smashed it and selected for herself the largest shard of broken glass. 'We'll switch to sharp for a while,' she informed her watcher.

* * *

Cordy, Doyle and Angel were sitting on Cordelia's sofa, studying a map of the city. Doyle sat at one side, leaning back. He had an ice pack wrapped in a tea towel held against his nose. He hoped this would reduce the swelling, at least he didn't think the rogue slayer had managed to break it; or at least that was what Cordelia had told him when she had dragged him under the light and examined his face. It certainly throbbed painfully enough; if this was not broken then he really didn't want to find out what broken felt like.

He wondered if he was ever going to manage to go more than a couple of weeks without sustaining a serious injury: attacked by a mad vampire slayer, attacked by the evil version of his own boss, electrocuted and pitted to the death against other demons, and shot by a cop. This really hadn't been his year. The century had only just started, he couldn't imagine he would survive for much of it at this rate.

Cordelia was causing far less fuss about her eye. But an elbow to the face probably hurt less than a boot to the face. And he'd read somewhere that women had higher thresholds for pain, anyway, probably something to do with being the ones that had the babies. So she probably wasn't suffering half as much as he was. Which was fortunate, as this meant that she was free to give Angel the information necessary to save Wesley.

'On Monday a guy was beaten up here', she pointed to the bus station, 'had his wallet and keys stolen, he's still in the hospital. Over the next couple of days there have been incidents in public places all within a few blocks of here - a restaurant had someone dragged out on Tuesday, and on Wednesday a guy met what he described to the paramedics who attended the scene as 'the bitch from hell', right here.' She pointed to another location.

'But this one was first?' the vampire pointed to the station. She nodded.

'He had his keys taken and he's still in the hospital?'

'Yeah, we we're just gonna go down there and talk to him.'

Doyle groaned. 'That's not a bad idea, I think I need a hospital, man.' Cordelia patted his leg, comfortingly, but other than that she ignored him.

'I'll go,' Angel told her, 'See about getting myself an invite to his place. You guys, pack up and head to Doyle's. Stay out of trouble and stay together. I don't want to lose any more of my people.'

Their boss strode out of the apartment and the two of them were left on the sofa. 'Let me see your face,' Cordelia said, gently, reaching out to take the ice pack off her friend. 'How are you doing?'

He groaned again. 'Am I swollen and hideous?'

'You're always hideous', she told him, 'but you'll be fine.'

'Remind me _never_ to get hit by a slayer again.'

'Worse than getting knocked out by demons, huh?'

'Much! No wonder monsters are terrified of 'em. It's not right, having little girls walking around with that kind of strength! Someone should do something.'

Cordelia smiled, as she tenderly examined his face. It was swelling, and under his eyes was beginning to bruise. He was right, going up against a slayer was different to anything else they had ever done. Slayers were the things that monsters had nightmares about. 'Hey, Doyle? Do you really think we should just go back to your place and hide?'

'Well, if I'm votin' with my nose, then yes.'

'And if you can put your great pansy whining to one side for a moment and vote with your brain?'

'Hey!'

But she just looked at him, unrepentant. So he thought about what she was suggesting. 'Angel is usually up to any task they set him... but...'

'But?'

'Slayers are different, y'know? Its her _job_ to kill people like Angel. And he didn't do so great that time he went up against that Spike guy.'

'The slayer of slayers', said Cordelia, nodding, 'we did really really have to rescue him that time, didn't we?'

'Guy wouldda been toast if it weren't for us!'

'Sometimes even the best heroes need rescuing by their lame ass sidekicks. Once I had to turn a fire hose on an entire crowd of maddened towns people to stop them burning Buffy alive at the stake.'

'Y'did?'

'Uhuh ...I might have needed reminding to... put the fire out … though.'

'So … you think we should ….'

'I think we should….'

They got up and left the apartment 'We can get there before Angel,' Cordelia said, 'because we don't need an invite, but we absolutely must not do anything that could be misconstrued as brave until it's clear that Angel needs us, right?'

'Right.' Doyle said, he just wished his nose hurt a little bit less.

* * *

Faith sat high up on the window ledge, she needed the fresh air, being cooped up in the torture room was taking a lot out of her. She played with the shard of smashed glass, it was smeared with blood now. The blood was on her hands … like Deputy Mayor Finch's blood had got on her hands… And the way it was streaked across the shard made her think of her own blood on her own knife, the beautiful one the Mayor had given her, when Buffy had slid it right through her gut, like she was butter ...But she wasn't thinking about that now. She wasn't thinking about _any_ of it.

She dropped the bloody fragment out of the window and watched it fall down the side of the building and heard it smash on the ground below. She sighed and returned to Wesley.

...

Down at ground level, Cordelia and Doyle snuck into the building.

...

'It's refreshing out there', the slayer told the captured man, rubbing her hands together. 'I'm a little cold, what say we warm the place up a bit?' She walked into the kitchen and picked up a lighter. 'Do you ever think things might have been different?' she asked Wesley. 'If we'd never met? What if you had got Buffy and I had had Giles as my watcher? Do you think you'd still be here, now, and it would be B with the lighter? Or would it be Giles tied to that chair?' She walked closer, 'or is it like fate? Like we have no choice and no matter what, it was always gonna be this way?' She picked up an aerosol can, and depressed the lid, testing her makeshift blowtorch. 'You ever think about that Wesley? Fate? Destiny?' She moved her lighter and aerosol so that he could see them, and she once more depressed the can and let the flames surge out, but this time so that Wesley could see. 'I don't,' she told him. She pulled his gag down, 'you know I think I wanna hear you scream.'

'You never will.'

The door burst open, and Angel was stood there. She remembered the time he had burst through the door of her motel room and dragged her off Xander. She'd only been playing. She probably wouldn't have killed him ...dammit, _she wasn't thinking about that_. She certainly wasn't playing now. This was the end of it all, and she would start with Wesley. She dropped her can and lighter and picked up a knife, holding it to Wesley's throat. 'About time soul boy, ready for this?'

'I'm ready.'

* * *

_Angelus stumbled out of the alleyway. 'Oh God, Oh God, I can't.' God couldn't help him, Darla wouldn't help him. What was he now? How could he live with this burden, and this hunger, working against each other, tearing him apart? As he staggered away, the woman emerged from the alley, out into the larger street. She watched as her attacker fell against the wall, stopping for a moment and then stumbling on again. 'There was a desperate soul in torment' she thought to herself as she raised her hands to her neck, feeling the wound that he had inflicted on her. She took her hand away and looked at the blood now smeared across it._

* * *

Faith looked at the vampire standing in the doorway. 'OK you showed, but are you really into this?' she asked. 'If I kill Wes will it help? Or will it just be really funny?'

'You don't think I know what you're after?' the vampire asked, 'I do.' In Faith's own words, it was wicked obvious. The slayer was a mess, her hair was lank, her skin was pallid, there were dark rings around her eyes. She was barely holding herself together and there was only one thing that she was really after. Angel wondered if she even consciously knew it yet.

'You, I have to kill. I'm getting paid. Wesley is just for the hell of it.'

Angel walked into the room, slowly; as he moved she had to turn to face him, meaning Wesley was now beside her instead of in front of her. Following Angel with her eyes, as he left the doorway, she also failed to notice that the vampire was not alone. She thought this was her vs Angel, slayer vs vampire, with Wesley in the middle, collateral damage. She didn't realise that it was her, alone, against a family. And whilst she might be stronger, they were united.

Perhaps it was kinder that she did not realise that she was fighting four, not one. She was always alone. It was the curse of the slayer, but the curse of Faith the vampire slayer in particular. The existence of the scoobies had always been a sore point for her. She had wanted the friends, and the mom and the doting watcher ... and the boyfriend. But she'd had nothing whilst Buffy had everything. And now, if she just turned her head, she would realise that good guys always ran in packs. The boyfriend could pack up and leave town, but the friends would come with him. He even had a watcher. _Her_ watcher. And Buffy had replaced Angel, no problem. The friendship group had diverged and been remade, and there was still no place for Faith. Because it was the villains who were forever alone, there was something fundamentally wrong with them, something fundamentally wrong with _her_.

'You never told me,' Angel said, 'how much am I worth dusted? I'm curious.'

'15000 plus expenses.'

They'd paid 15000 for Doyle's visions. Angel wasn't worth more to Wolfram and Hart than Doyle was? He was hurt! 'You're kidding!'

'Hey, I'm young, I'll work my way up.'

'You feel young, do you, Faith? Because you're looking pretty worn to me.'

Wesley threw himself backwards, still tied to his chair, and he crashed to the floor. Angel kicked the slayer away from him and the two of them began to fight, fast and furious, throwing kicks and punches that were just a blur. As they moved further away from Wesley, Doyle and Cordelia ran inside the room and knelt beside their stricken friend. The watcher had noticed Faith's abandoned knife lying beside him, and he drew the pair's attention to it. Doyle picked up the knife and began to saw through the ropes.

Faith caught a glimpse of the two people working to save Wesley, 'You gotta be kidding me!' she cried, not believing that they could be so stupid as to face her again after she'd already left them unconscious once that evening. She started towards them, determined to destroy this little pack of friends, to destroy Angel emotionally before she destroyed him physically. But Angel caught her and threw her away from them, she smashed into the opposite wall. Friends were a source of strength, but she didn't know that, couldn't know that… so she couldn't beat Angel when his team were near him, even if they did nothing to help in the fight itself.

She got up and launched herself back at Angel, beating him with her fists, driving him backwards. 'Come on Angel, I thought you were bad!'

He smashed a vase over her head, but it didn't slow her down. 'You can't take me! No one can take me!' she screamed, whaling on him, then kicking him across the room. The vampire landed heavily on his back, and didn't get up straight away. The slayer saw her chance, and grabbed a smashed up bit of wood that had broken off some of the furniture they had destroyed. As she crossed the room to get to the vampire, Cordelia stuck her leg out and tripped her up. Faith stumbled, and turned on the weaker girl, in fury, deciding to kill her instead. But Angel was up again and he leapt across the room, grabbed Faith around the middle, and crashed them both through the window. They fell to the ground outside, glass raining down on them from above.

Doyle and Cordelia looked at each other. Wesley was almost free, but they were now separated from their boss, unable to support him . 'Go to him,' Cordelia commanded, taking the knife off Doyle and continuing to cut through Wes' ropes. Doyle got up and ran for the door. 'Back up only!' she shouted after him, 'nothing brave!'

...

The half demon ran down the stairs and out into the night. It had started to rain. It never rained in L.A. Faith was hitting and kicking Angel, screaming at him. 'You don't know what evil is! You hear me? I'm bad - fight back', she punched him, 'fight back.' Angel wouldn't though and Doyle approached them cautiously, sensing that an ending was near, things were finally coming to a head.

...

Above them, Cordelia had finally freed Wesley and struggled to help him upright. She swore when she saw the cuts and bruises and blood, wondering how on earth he had survived this, how on earth she was supposed to put this right with the contents of her first aid kit.

But Wesley wasted no time in being fussed over. He went to the window and looked out. Cordelia joined him there. They could see Faith kicking and beating Angel, getting in all the blows, holding all the ground. Cordy looked at Wesley's bloodied face, and looked at Angel taking a beating below, and thought of Doyle; down there with him, in the rain, defenceless if Angel fell - and her heart hardened. She handed Wesley the knife, and the two of them raced out through the door and then down the stairs, hoping to put an end to all this.

...

Doyle watched as the slayer pounded on the vampire, at most Angel would dodge a blow, but he would never strike back. The rain poured down. 'I'm not going to make this easy for you', Angel said.

Faith was screaming, she threw herself at him, hitting him. 'I'm evil! I'm bad! D'ya hear me? I'm bad!' Her blows were not those of a slayer any more, they were desperate, uncoordinated; the fists of a little girl who had lost control and was pummelling an adult, but doing no damage. She grabbed his shirt and shook him. 'Do you hear me? I'm bad, I'm bad! Angel! Please! Just do it.'

Cordelia and Wesley ran out of the house and joined Doyle in the alley way. They stopped when they saw what he was watching. Angel had stopped Faith from hitting him, finally, and was cradling her in his arms, pulling the girl towards himself. The slayer was sobbing. 'Just do it! Please. Angel! Just kill me. Just kill me.' She stumbled, causing the pair of them to overbalance, and they sank to their knees, Angel still holding her as she cried, talking to her now: 'It's OK, I'm here, It's alright, shh, shhh.'

Wesley dropped the knife, it clattered to the ground and the blood on it, his blood, began to rinse away. Cordelia put her arm around him, to help him support himself and the three members of team Angel stood together, a family, in the pouring rain; watching as the vampire with a soul saved the soul of the fallen slayer.


	41. Sanctuary: Part One

The elevator landed in his apartment and Angel slid open the gates. He ushered Faith inside and led her towards the bedroom. Both were soaked from the night's rainfall and bruised from their fight. Faith had an air of dejection, of defeat, about her. She was shivering. She sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold in some warmth, but there was nothing.

Angel placed a towel around her shoulders and it caught the water droplets that fell from her hair. 'You can rest here,' he told her, and she slowly lay back on the bed, hoping to find some peace. The vampire covered her with a blanket and she shivered beneath it, not yet warm enough to relax or heal. 'Just rest now', he said to her, gently. She didn't deserve the gentleness in his voice and didn't understand where it came from.

He had her backpack, the few possessions she had in the world - all stolen anyway. 'I'll just put your stuff here,' he said, showing her the chair he was leaving the bag on. 'I'll be close.' He turned to leave.

'Angel'

'Yeah?'

_She dove off the bed and began stabbing him, right in the gut, with a butcher's knife. The vampire doubled over and she just kept on stabbing._

'Nothing.' She was still lying on the bed, she hadn't moved. She hadn't killed again. Angel left the room.

* * *

Doyle and Cordelia supported Wesley through his doorway and then into the bedroom. They lay the injured man on top of the bed and Doyle took his shoes off for him whilst Cordelia went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to get some supplies. The watcher was covered in cuts and bruises, which Faith had inflicted on him over their hours long torture session, and Cordelia was unsure how she was going to put this right. It wasn't that the injuries, in themselves, were anything worse than she had cleaned up for Doyle in the past couple of months but there was something darker about these; more painful in a way she couldn't really articulate.

Doyle's wounds, his gunshot wound, his stab wound - there had been nothing personal about the infliction of those, they were just injuries he'd sustained in the line of duty. Once they had physically healed, Doyle was healed. She feared this wasn't going to be the case for Wesley. He would never again be the man he was before Faith took him to that apartment.

She washed her hands in the bathroom, scrubbing under her nails to make sure there was nothing there that could get into Wesley's cuts, and then headed back into the bedroom. Doyle had helped Wesley off with his shirt, and then he had got her a bowl of cool, soapy water, a clean cloth and some ice packs, like she had asked. She rolled up her sleeves and set to work...

...

He was asleep when they finally left him, gently closing the front door of his apartment so as not to wake him, hoping that the hours of rest could do something to begin the healing process. 'I'll get you home, now,' Doyle said, ushering her down the corridor. But she stood still.

'I don't want to go back to my place… not yet… not after...'

'I'll take you to mine, then.'

She nodded gratefully, and he put his arm around her as they walked off. She leaned against him and wended her own arm around his back, so they supported each other as they went.

* * *

Once at his place, Doyle poured himself a large glass of whisky: 'you want one?'. Cordelia wrinkled up her nose and shook her head. Doyle tossed back the drink and poured himself another. 'You're missin' out', he told her. 'I feel warmer already.'

She sat on Doyle's narrow bed and wrapped her arms around herself to stop herself from shivering, not realising that she mirrored Faith as she did so. Doyle went into the bathroom and found her a towel and draped it across her shoulders, not knowing that Angel had done exactly this for the cold, wet slayer.

Cordelia took off her shoes, and began to rub her hair dry. Once she was done, she dropped the towel and lay back on the bed. She knew she shouldn't just leave it lying there on Doyle's floor, but she was too tired to move it someplace more appropriate. He didn't seem to mind.

'You ready to sleep now, Cordy?'

'Uhuh.'

He sat down on the couch, 'OK, I'll be right over here if you need me.'

She shook her head on the pillow. 'No, I'm cold. There's room for us both on here.'

'You sure?'

'It's just sleep, Doyle. I've fallen asleep on you before.'

'OK.' He moved off the couch and got onto the bed with her. It was a tight fit, Doyle's apartment was small and so his bed wasn't a full double, but Cordelia didn't mind. She cuddled up to him as close as she could get, hoping to share some of his warmth after their soaking. He put his arm around her once more and they drifted off to sleep...

...

They were less than impressed when Angel rang Cordelia, early next morning, requesting that she come in with some doughnuts.

* * *

The two of them were surprised when the door to the office opened and Wesley walked in, they stopped what they were doing and the three of them just looked at each other. Wesley was still stiff and swollen and bruised. Cordelia had done what she could, but the damage would show for a while yet. He could tell how bad he looked by the expression on his friends faces. Doyle didn't look too bad, Wesley remembered the vicious kick he'd taken to the face, but it hadn't seemed to do much harm - the swelling from the night before had already gone down.

Cordelia's face had fared rather worse, her eye socket was black and bruised and there was a sore looking abrasion on her cheek bone. 'Bitch' Wesley said. Cordelia gave him a look. 'Not you, of course,' he clarified. 'I can't tell you how sorry I am that I allowed this to happen.'

'I believe that it was Faith who allowed her elbow to connect with my face - not your fault.'

Doyle nodded his agreement, the last person anyone was blaming for all this was Wesley.

'At least you only got the elbow', he looked at Doyle, 'and her boot.'

'Well if it's any consolation', Cordelia said to him, 'it looks like you were tortured by … a far larger woman.'

'I take it she's still here?'

Doyle snorted with disgust. 'You better believe it, bud.'

'He gave her his _bed_ ', Cordelia added, in outraged disbelief. The half demon, who was balanced next to her on the edge of the desk, pressed up close, rubbed her upper arm with the back of his hand, comfortingly. She glanced down at where he was touching her, and then up into his face. They shared a smile, but it was a sad one.

Angel walked into the room from the stairwell. 'Wesley!'

'Angel.'

'I wasn't expecting to see you here today. How are you feeling?'

Cordelia gave the vampire a look of pure indignation and disbelief, that he would give a murderer his own bed and then ask her torture victim how he was feeling! Angel was walking a line, here, that she was refusing to follow. There were two defined sides to this, no middle ground. Either you were on Faith's side, or you were on Wesley's. She sided with her friend, and so did Doyle, she didn't even have to check on that. It wasn't Angel that had been beaten unconscious last night, and it wasn't Angel that had cleaned up Wesley in the aftermath, seen the damage. It was the two of them.

You didn't go through that and then think that you could support Faith through... whatever it was she was going through. The vampire was choosing to pretend that his friends were fine so that he could help Faith with a clear conscience. And the betrayal stung. But Cordelia wasn't going to take this lying down, she was making plans to get her and Doyle out of the situation.

As Wesley pretended that he was OK, Angel lost interest in him, spotting the large, white box that sat on the side. 'Doughnuts!'

'Developed a sweet fang have you?' Wesley asked wryly. Angel ignored the question.

'Did you get Jelly?' he asked Cordelia.

'Whole selection.'

'Won't she find it difficult to enjoy delicious jam doughnuts if she is - one assumes - bound and gagged?'

'Angel's the only one that gets tied to the bed when he turns evil … because _we_ do it. Other murderers he keeps as house guests, free range, like,' Doyle told his battered work colleague.

Angel looked at his friend in surprise, it seemed an unusually harsh thing for Doyle to say; he always understood where Angel was coming from, always sympathised. But the Irishman had never seen such evil from a human being; one chosen by The Powers to be part of the good fight, as well - and any sympathy he might have felt out in the rainstorm, where Faith had collapsed, had been washed away when he watched Cordelia fix up Wesley. And it would probably stay away until the bruise on Cordy's lovely face had healed. When he couldn't look at his friends and see the pain that Faith had caused manifested in bruises and cuts, then he might be more willing to help Angel. But not now, it was too soon.

'Guys, we went through this … last night.'

'Yep, you said, you'd help her, that you're the only one who can,' Doyle agreed, he didn't have to like it, though.

'And I'm right … the police …'

'The police are ill equipped to deal with a rogue slayer. You are perfectly right Angel and I agree with your reasoning for not turning her over,' Wesley said in clipped tones.

'Thank you.'

'But what I don't understand is why the woman who tortured me … last night … for hours… this morning gets pastries!' He was a lot more heated by the time he had finished.

'I don't have anything else downstairs … you want me to let her starve?'

'Of course not, there are far more humane ways to deal with a rabid animal.'

'She's not an animal.'

'No?'

'She's a person. And it's not so long ago, Wesley, that it was you arguing for rehabilitation.'

'It's not so long ago that I had full feeling in my right arm!'

The two men glared at each other, eye to eye. Cordelia and Doyle glanced at one another, uncomfortably. They were with Wesley on this, but Angel was their boss and so in the end he would do what he wanted to do, regardless of if they supported him. Just last night, they had, all four of them, been completely united in their desire to find and stop Faith. This morning their group had splintered, fractured, possibly irreparably; such was the power of the rogue slayer.

'We help people. It's what we do', Angel reminded them.

'I believe in helping people, Angel, I do. But there is evil in that girl! If she gets loose she will kill again.'

'Everyone makes mistakes.' The vampire told his friends '...Doyle?' He turned to the one who he hoped could understand better than the others, but Cordelia was having none of it.

'Oh, hey, no! Hang on! You are not going to compare one little mistake from years ago _which he is working to put right_ with a _vampire slayer_ who actively chose to use her power to murder innocent people! She tried to kill you, Angel. She tried to kill _Buffy_. You are _not_ going to try and guilt Doyle into helping you because he is a total pushover with the kind of guilty conscience only a Catholic upbringing can give. I won't let you.' And she defiantly linked her arm through Doyle's, showing that she was not going to allow him to go downstairs and join in with rehabilitating the woman who had kicked him unconscious the night before. Doyle smiled at her appreciatively, and Angel knew he had lost.

Wesley picked up his jacket. 'I suppose I will wish you luck, Angel. But I shan't help you ...not this time.' He left the office.

'He'll come around,' Angel said to his two remaining friends.

'Uhuh… sure he will, any moment now…It only takes a matter of hours to recover from being sadistically tortured and forgive the person who tortured you... I need you to sign this.' Cordelia handed him the company cheque book and pointed to the line. Angel signed.

'Uhuh.' She turned to the next cheque. 'And here.' He signed again. 'And here… thanks.'

'Hang on! We're those made out to you and Doyle?' He looked between the two of them, but Doyle appeared as surprised as he did.

'Yes, we're having a paid vacation. Starting …' she glanced at her watch '...now. I'm not gonna stick around when there's a psycho roaming around loose, downstairs, amidst three tons of medieval weaponry. And I've made an executive decision that I'm not letting Doyle stick around either. She's mental and we are defenceless against her, so we're gone. Also …' she gave a pointed look at the box of doughnuts in Angels hand 'I'm thinking sugar high … probably not such a good idea.' She put on a large pair of shades to cover her black eye, and left the office.

Angel looked at Doyle, expectantly; but the half demon just got off the desk, swiped the three jelly doughnuts from out of the selection box on his way past, and followed her out.

* * *

Kate was sat at her desk filling in some paperwork when Detective Kendrick approached her. 'Hey Kate, I've got a favour to ask.'

She put her pen down and looked up at him. 'So ask and I'll see if I can do.'

'You heard about that woman they say has come to town? Came from up North, a place called Sunnydale, wound up here, has a felony arrest warrant out for her?'

Kate frowned. 'I heard about that, yeah … she's been in a coma, she keeps escaping the police, no one can explain it, right?'

'That about sums it up', Detective Kendrick agreed.

'So what's up?' Kate wanted to know.

'Well, it's a weird case,' he chuckled a little dryly, 'some of the guys are saying she's got 'supernatural powers'.' He shook his hands, like jazz hands, as he said 'supernatural powers' to emphasise his point. Kate just stared at him. He continued. 'Well… it's a stumper. We don't how she does what she does. We found where she's been staying but she's disappeared without a trace. Plenty of damage left behind, though. I don't know where to go from here. I asked around. Seems you're something of an expert .. the go to person for the unexplainable cases.'

Kate sighed a deep sigh… she didn't want this. She just wanted to do her job, her real job: arrest human criminals and keep the streets safe for human citizens. But befriending the vampire detective had robbed her of that. She was now the Mulder of the LAPD. 'There's always an explanation', she told Detective Kendrick heavily. 'I just don't always _like_ that explanation.'

'So you'll look into this?' he asked. 'Sort it? Bring it to some sort of satisfactory conclusion.'

'I'll look into it. I might even sort it. I can't promise that you'll be satisfied with the conclusion though.'

* * *

Angel walked into the apartment, carrying the doughnuts. He could see from the bottom step that his bedroom was empty. 'Faith?' A movement out of the corner of his eye directed his gaze to the kitchen, where he saw the slayer leaning against the wall. 'I've got doughnuts,' he told her. She didn't react. He put the box down and walked towards her slowly. 'Faith… I know what you're going through… I understand … but there's some things I need you to do. First … I need you to give me that knife.' He held his hand out.

She looked down. Sure enough, she held a large carving knife in her right hand. She seemed surprised to see it there, but on realising she had it, reluctant to let it go. Angel didn't let his gaze waver and he just left his hand out in mid air, waiting for the knife. Eventually she handed it to him. 'You should be resting' he told her.

'I've been asleep for a whole year,' she said, 'you rest.'

* * *

Lilah walked into Lindsey's office without knocking. 'We've found her - she's with him.'

'Is he dead?'

'Well he's a vampire, so technically yes. But not by her hand. She's his house guest.'

Lindsey couldn't believe what he was hearing 'we hired her to kill him.'

'Yes we did.'

'And now she's _spending the night_?'

Lilah sat down. 'So what do we do? He can't be bought, he can't be killed - not even by a vampire slayer,' she laughed a short disbelieving laugh. 'Rumour has it he actually used to _date_ one,' she smirked.

'We have a problem,' Lindsey surmised. 'And we need to sort it, how?'

Lee Mercer sat forwards from his place at the table. His eyes were black, his nose was broken and he was wearing a neck brace: 'I say we kill her.'

* * *

' _Faith, No!' Buffy shouted, but a moment too late. The slayer plunged her stake into the heart of the man who had accosted her and the Deputy Mayor fell to the floor, a look of surprise on his face. His eyes glazed over and blood trickled from his mouth. His blood was all over her hands._

' _Faith, you don't get it, you killed a man!'_

' _No, you don't get it … I don't care!'_

_The blood trickled from his mouth, his eyes were blank, as his life drained away. He stopped moving. His blood was all over her hands._

' _You killed a man!'_

' _I don't care!'_

_He died, slumped in an alley. His blood was all over her hands_

' _I don't care!'_

_His blood was all over her hands._

Faith sat on Angel's bed, he wasn't there, but he was somewhere nearby. She looked at her hands, as if she expected to see Deputy Mayor Finch's blood still staining them. She needed to get out. She picked up her backpack and ran for the door. He blocked it. Angel was stopping her from leaving.

'Why are you doing this?' she asked. 'Why are you being nice to me? … just stop it.' He didn't move. 'Are you gonna step aside or are we gonna throw down, here? Am I your prisoner?'

'No, you're not my prisoner.'

'So I'm free to go.'

'Are you free, Faith? Where are you going to go?' She ignored him and shouldered her way past, walking out of the sliding door and into the underground car park. 'Are you really going to go back out into that darkness?' he called after her. 'I told you once that you didn't have to go into the darkness, that you had a choice. Remember? … But you thought you could just touch it, that you could control it.' He began to follow her, but slowly. 'Well, you made your choice, Faith, and look where it got you. Are you happy with it?'

The slayer turned to face him and hit him as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards but he didn't retaliate. He just looked at her. She refused to look back at him, she gazed around the garage, looking at anything but him. This was the hardest thing she was ever going to have to say, and she couldn't make eye contact whilst she did it. 'Help me?'

'Yeah.' He led her back inside.


	42. Sanctuary: Part Two

Venice beach boardwalk was bright and bustling and busy. It seemed a million miles away from the office, from demons and slayers and from the rain storm last night. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and Doyle and Cordelia could pretend that everything was OK. She had her arm through his as they walked down the road, the way she always did, and for a while they feigned normality, acting as if they were getting this rare day off, this rare trip out to the real world, for a happy reason. The brightly coloured shops and bars and restaurants lay to one side of them and the palm trees and wide sandy vistas lay to the other, and in the distance they could see the outline of the Santa Monica Ferris Wheel reaching up to the sky, just a couple of miles away along the bay.

They walked past living statue after living statue; one was dressed up like an Egyptian sarcophagus and must be sweltering in all that gold, one was the Statue of Liberty - at the wrong side of the continent, and one was dressed as a fakir sitting on a flying carpet. Cordelia couldn't work out how that one was done, but Doyle was reasonably sure that the man had a stand that was disguised somehow.

'Maybe, he really can float.'

'Maybe, but if he can, he probably wouldn't want the sort o' questions doing it in public might raise, y'know?'

'Right.'

She thought for moment and then something suddenly struck her for the first time. 'Hey, Doyle?'

'Yeah?'

'How do you manage not sneezing in public? I mean, if you did, it would be a case of instantaneous ugly, scary hedgehog, right? People would panic?'

'That they would, Princess. It's just a case of bein' careful is all.'

'But you can't always control when you sneeze!'

'No, but I sneezed in front of you one time and you didn' notice.'

'You did?'

'Yep.'

'How did I not notice my friend turn into a green skinned, diseased looking porcupine?'

He smiled, at least he'd never have to wonder or worry about what Cordelia thought of his demon face. Tact was not her style. Not that she seemed to mind that she thought his demon side was ugly, she had accepted it totally. 'It was dark', he told her, 'I turned away and covered my face. You weren't even payin' attention. Neither you or Wesley were any the wiser.'

'So that's the answer? You cover your face and hope no one really notices?'

'You'd be amazed just how little attention people pay me, Princess. I don't stand out in a crowd the way you or Angel might. Anyway, I don't sneeze very much, here.'

She frowned. 'Here, where?'

'Here. L.A. America. Different pollen, different pollution. My allergies are much worse at home. That always happens when people travel.'

'Oh. Is that why you came here?'

'No. I was human when I came here … or I thought I was. I came here because I fancied a change.'

'A change from what?'

'The rain, mostly.'

They stopped and watched a performance artist climb to the top of a free standing ladder, promising that she would jump it across volunteers whilst juggling machetes when she got to the top. The crowd laughed, she couldn't do that! A few people volunteered and laid down on the boardwalk, Doyle and Cordelia stayed well back, they didn't survive fights with demons and monsters to be killed by an errant machete on Venice Beach.

The woman stood at the top of the ladder and started rocking it back and forth until she got it to move forwards, she controlled the ladder as if it were a pair of stilts and she began to walk. As she walked she started throwing a machete up and catching it, then she added in another and then another. When she was juggling four machetes and had control of the moving ladder, she walked towards the three volunteers on the ground. Cordelia buried her face in Doyle's shoulder. But the loud cheer from the audience, and the amazed swearing from Doyle, told Cordy that the performance artist had managed their promised feat. She climbed back down the free standing ladder and started collecting money in a hat. Doyle threw in a couple of bucks, feeling flush now that Cordelia had wrangled them paid vacation.

The two of them wandered onward, Doyle was beginning to think that he might like to stop in one of the bars and have a drink. He hoped Cordy would go for it. As they walked on down the boardwalk, they were passed by two people going in the other direction. They were covered in so many tattoos that their skin looked green. They had about fifteen facial piercings each, and one of them had had their tongue split, making it forked like a snake. Cordelia eyed them warily: 'You know Doyle, if you went demon face round here, no one would even notice. They'd just think you were really _really_ into body modification.'

He laughed and put his arm around her, as they headed for the nearest bar.

* * *

Night had fallen and Wesley had gone to a pub. It wasn't a real pub, of course. It was a British theme pub, and so, completely unlike any pub that you would ever find in Britain itself. British pubs didn't tend to have Union Jacks on the wall, alongside pictures of the Queen, or blare out Pink Floyd and the Rolling Stones at top volume. Real British pubs didn't have to announce to the world that they were British, of course, they just were. Over here in The States it had to be made much more obvious. Still, despite being nothing like the real thing, being nothing like home, this place still made Wesley feel a bit like he was home. He could at least get a decent pint alongside his game of darts here, which was more than he could do in any American bars.

He was interrupted in his game by a middle aged man in a leather coat throwing a dart at him. He turned to look, there were three of them, in fact, sat at Wesley's table. 'Hello Wesley,' one of them said.

...

The four of them had moved to a booth and were waiting for the waitress to bring them the beer. This was one of the ways the pub got it wrong. You didn't get table service just for drinks in a real pub. You didn't get booths either.

'So, Los Angeles,' said one of the men, Collins.

'California,' Wesley agreed.

'Who'd have thought you'd end up here eh?'

'Well, having been asked to resign my position by the council, it seemed as good a place as any to review my new circumstances.'

'They didn't cough up for the plane fare home, then?' Another of the men, a long faced, balding one, Weatherby he was called, asked.

'No,' Wesley affirmed.

'All those alchemists on the board of directors, and they still make us fly coach. Miserly bastards' the final man, Smith, added to the conversation.

'They can be frugal, but they're not stupid,' Collins said. He was the leader, the toughest and the cleverest. 'They can admit when they've made a mistake.'

'A mistake?' Wesley wanted to know more.

'How would you like to come home with us, Wesley? Back to England. No more theme pubs, no more bloody Americans. The Watcher's Council are willing to reinstate you, back to your rightful position as watcher. It was a nasty business back in Sunnydale but nobody blames you.'

Wesley snorted derisively. 'That's funny, I rather got the impression that I was exactly who they blamed when they fired me.'

'Like I said, it was a mistake, but one we can rectify.' Collins nodded at Smith, who pushed an envelope towards Wesley. Wes opened it. Inside there was a picture of Faith. He looked at the three men, understanding exactly where this was going.

'We know where she is,' Collins told him, 'we know you have access.'

Wesley pushed the picture away from himself. 'I couldn't possibly.'

'Loyalty to a vampire now, is it?' sneered the long faced Weatherby. He was the most disagreeable of the bunch, or at least, he was the only one who didn't try to hide how objectionable he was. But Collins silenced him with a look, this was a delicate matter and it needed diplomacy, for now. Something that Weatherby was none too good at. 'That's alright, that isn't what we're here about. A rogue slayer - something far more dangerous than any one vampire, I'm sure you agree.'

Wesley nodded, it was true.

'She has power,' Collins said, 'and the will to use that power for evil. She has betrayed the calling, the council - you. She has to be stopped.'

* * *

Faith was alone in the kitchen again, leaning on the microwave. She heard Angel enter the room behind her. 'So.. How does this work?' she asked.

The vampire launched into his speech, he sounded like he's been practising. 'I'm not gonna lie to you, it isn't gonna be easy,' he told her. 'You're ready to change but that doesn't mean that the world is ready. It doesn't mean that you'll ever be able to make up for the things that you did. No matter how much you suffer … no matter how many good deeds, the cosmic balance might never be redressed.' He fixed her with his most penetrating, intense gaze, trying to communicate to her, with his eyes, the difficulty of the path she had chosen, the path he walked every day. 'What I can promise you is that you will be haunted', he told her, his eyes full of redemptive zeal. 'Possibly for the rest of your life.'

'Uhuh,' Faith said, she waved at the microwave, 'but how does _this_ work?'

'Oh,' Angel was embarrassed. Sometimes he just got carried away with the whole saving souls thing, he could be a little too earnest at times. 'Power, level, time, start.' He showed her, covering for his embarrassment. 'You sure popcorn will be enough?'

'Yeah, I can live on the stuff. Tell Cordelia I'll pay her back.'

'I think it was Wesley's'

'Oh. Maybe we should just not mention it then.'

'Or maybe we should.'

'You sayin' I gotta apologise?' She asked, sounding anguished. 'How do I apologise for something like that? 'gee, I'm sorry I tortured the living hell out of you for a couple of hours the other day, but I got you some more popcorn'?'

'Well I think I'd start off by missing out the 'gee'. Then you have to ask yourself, are you?'

'Am I what?'

'Sorry.'

She shook her head impatiently and looked away, this was going to be too hard. Angel's little pep talk was starting to make sense now. 'What if I can't say it? I mean there's some stuff that you just can't take back, right? No matter how sorry you are.'

'Yeah, I got a bit of experience with that.' Angel told her.

Faith laughed, a mirthless bark of laughter 'Oh man, I gotta be the only slayer in history sponsored by a vampire.'

'I got some experience with that too.'

She took his meaning and her face looked anguished again. 'Oh God - B - how am I ever gonna make things right with her?'

'Faith this isn't about Buffy.'

'All my life only one person ever tried to be my friend. I didn't have any right or reason to expect - and she went out of her way. And all I ever did was screw her. And her boyfriend. But that was literally.'

Angel looked confused, maybe Faith was misremembering the past, maybe her head trauma had played tricks with her memory, but he needed to clear this up, fast. 'Faith… you and I never…'

'No, not you', she said, 'the new one.'

He looked away, but not before she had seen his face and realised…

'Oh God… I'm sorry ...I didn't ...I'm sorry.'

'It's OK', he assured her, but not looking. 'See? you can say it. That's good.' He walked out of the kitchen. 'That's good.'

* * *

Doyle and Cordy were seated at the bar, they had bought a couple of Margaritas and were enjoying them. The bartender kept giving Cordelia suspicious looks, like he could tell she was not yet twenty one. But Doyle had bought and paid, and so the barman didn't say anything.

Two young women walked past and they also gave Cordelia a funny look.

'Isn't that the 'Stain Be Gone' girl?' one of them hissed at the other in a loud, drunk whisper. 'Why's she got those shades on? She can't think she's _that_ famous!' They giggled at Cordelia's expense as they stumbled away. 'Her T.V boyfriend's better looking than her real one,' the other woman said. Doyle frowned in their direction, and then turned back to Cordelia, who was, indeed, sitting in the dark bar with her sunglasses on. 'Y'know, you can take those off in here, darlin'. Your face isn't that bad, y'know. You don't have to hide.'

'Sure I do!' she said

'People have seen bruises before, Cordy.'

'Yeah - they have, and do you think they're gonna look at my face and think 'oh no that poor girl got on the wrong side of a mental vampire slayer'? _Not likely!_ They're gonna take one look at us and think _you_ hit me!'

'Ah, maybe keep the shades on then, yeah?'

'Exactly. I just hope this shiner has cleared up before I film my commercial next week.'

Doyle glanced around the bar. There was a television up in the corner, the sound was off but there were subtitles. It was showing the news, nobody was watching. It was getting harder not to think about Angel, and work, now that they were sat still with little to distract them. He gulped at his drink, but his mind was still focused on the vampire, and the mad woman he had stashed in his apartment. He signalled the bartender for another Margarita. 'So d'ya think Angel'll manage to get through to Faith, then?' he asked when his new drink arrived.

Cordelia slid a cherry off a cocktail stick and popped it in her mouth. 'I hope so. Or else what's a mad slayer going to do now that her assassins gig for the mayor and Wolfram and Hart has fallen through? Join the Order of Taraka?'

'How do you know about the bounty hunters?'

'When you get attacked by a maggot creature assassin, you tend to remember them!'

' _You_ were attacked by a member of the order?'

'Well, obviously, they were after Buffy. But me and Xander were at her house so we got attacked by the worm man ...after I might have... let him into her house...a little bit.'

'You got away, though?'

'Covered in worms! I had to take a shower at school and change into my gym kit.'

Doyle briefly allowed his mind to go to a happy visual place, before returning his attention to the woman in front of him. 'And that was that? You ran away and the bounty hunter stopped coming? 'Cause the way I heard it, that's not their style.'

'Of course not, doofus! Jeez! I killed him.'

' _You_ ...killed a…'

'Broke him down into his little buggy parts, he chased us through a door and had to go all wormy to get under it. We'd spread superglue the other side of it … and the worms got stuck ...and we squished... Me and Xander, that was.'

_Xander._ He kept hearing that name. He'd have to ask Angel about him, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't like the answer. He took another swig of his cocktail and glanced up at the television.

* * *

The three attorneys were holed up in Lindsey's office. They were sorting the problem and no one else was to know that this had ever happened. Someone had to make the coffee. Lindsey and Lilah eyeballed each other, but she didn't give in. She wasn't playing mother just because she was the woman, if you made the coffee then no matter how high you climbed, you'd still be the coffee girl. It was a matter of principle. Besides, it was Lindsey's office, he should host!

She sat down across from their guest. Lindsey made the coffees. She held out a picture of Faith, 'this is your target,' she told their visitor.

'Don't be fooled,' Lee interjected, 'she's tougher than she looks.'

'Nothing elaborate', Lindsey said, stirring the drinks. 'It doesn't have to be slow or painful.'

'Some pain might be nice.' Lee disagreed.

'The point is we want her dead.'

'Yes-dead - a lot.'

Lindsey brought the tray to the table and handed the drinks around: coffees for the attorneys and a bowl of gruel for their visitor.

'Just to be clear,' Lilah said. 'There isn't going to be any paperwork on this, it's strictly a handshake deal.'

'Not that you need hands to deal with us,' Lindsey clarified.

'That was speciest of me,' Lilah apologised, 'I'm sorry if I caused any offence.'

The creature they were talking to opened its mouth full of fangs and stuck it's four eyed face into the bowl of gruel, slurping noisily as it drank.

* * *

Doyle nudged Cordelia and pointed to the T.V screen. 'Is that Kate?' she asked him.

He nodded, 'uhuh.'

Kate was at a press conference, delivering some news to the media. They couldn't hear what she was saying, but they read the subtitles of her speech and then looked at each other dismayed. 'I think we'd better go tell Angel,' the Irishman said.

* * *

Collins pushed a folded napkin across to Wesley. He opened it and saw a tranquilliser dart inside.

'Careful with that,' the older man said, 'its strong enough to down a man twice your size … or a slayer.'

'What do you want me to do with it?' Wesley asked.

'You jab her with it!' Weatherby snarled.

'You want to take her alive then?'

'Of course,' Collins said. 'This will knock her out long enough to secure transport to England...there she will start her rehabilitation. Signal us once you've done, we'll come in and take it from there.'

'On one condition,' Wesley said, 'no harm comes to the vampire.'

'Don't be a ponce!' Weatherby was exasperated, but Collins stayed him with a look.

'We've got no quarrel with the vampire. We'll make every effort...'

'Not every effort. No harm. I want your word.'

'Done.'

They shook hands.

* * *

Faith was watching the television that Cordelia had brought down here for Doyle a couple of weeks ago. She was flicking through the channels. Angel was in the shower. Something scampered in behind her and ran up the wall, but she didn't notice. She heard the shower shut off and Angel appeared in the doorway, dripping wet and wrapped only in a towel. 'Is everything OK?'

'It was touch and go for the four minutes you left me alone, but I got through it.' She flicked onto the next channel, it was a news report and it was showing a picture of her own face. The announcer was detailing her crimes and asking people to come forward. She stared blankly at her own image.

Angel watched her closely, worried she might freak out - or cut and run. 'It's OK Faith, we knew about this.' The news report went to footage of a press conference and Angel watched in dismay as Kate started giving out the slayer's description. 'Nothing's changed, Faith. You're safe here, OK? You're safe.'

And that was when the demon from Wolfram and Hart dropped off the ceiling and pushed Angel to one side, launching itself at the slayer. They grappled on the floor, over turning the sofa as they struggled. Then Angel hauled the demon off her. She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. The vampire and the demon were wrestling now, this thing was strong and vicious and, without thinking, Faith launched herself into the fray and began stabbing. The demon dropped down and lay still, dead.

Faith stared at the blood on her knife, and the blood on her hands. It was just like before... 'No.' She dropped the knife, it clattered to the floor and she began to shake.

'Hey, Hey, It's OK. Shhh. I'm here. It was just a demon, it's OK.' Angel led her over to the daybed and sat her down, comforting her. But she was shaking and crying and she pressed herself against his wet, naked torso, careful not to touch him with her bloodied hands. He wrapped his arms around her: 'shh shh it's OK.' He heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up to see who it was.

As Angel made eye contact with the new arrival, he heard the elevator creak into motion. It reached the apartment level and the gates slid back and Doyle and Cordy stepped out .'Hey, Angel man, we need to tell y' …' the half demon trailed off. The two of them took in the scene in front of them, the crying, shaking Faith and the half naked vampire ( _of course he was half naked_ ) holding her in his arms. Then they noticed the person stood at the bottom of the stairs, a look of horrified outrage frozen on their face.

'Hey, Buffy,' Cordelia said.


	43. Sanctuary: Part Three

'Buffy!' Angel got up; gripping the white, fluffy towel, which was all he had on, around his waist as he did so.

'What…' the blonde slayer looked from the gleaming, wet vampire to Faith, sitting on the bed covered in blood, and then back again. She looked like she couldn't quite process the image, or articulate the words necessary to describe what she was feeling. Cordelia and Doyle glanced at each other in discomfort, wishing they could just back away into the elevator and disappear back upstairs. Boy, had they ever come in at the wrong moment!

'How…' Buffy was still struggling '...what are you doing?' She finally managed a complete sentence, pain and disbelief carved into every word.

'She - we were attacked.' Angel glanced between the two slayers.

'We? - you and …'

'Faith.'

'You and Faith.'

'It's not what you think!' Angel told her, looking to his two friends for backup, but they were not getting in the middle of this and refused to meet his eye.

' _You actually think I can form a thought right now_?' Her tone was injured but furious. She sounded like she might be trying not to cry, but they would be tears of anger as much as of heartbreak. She folded her arms across her chest defensively, as if trying to protect herself from the visual information this scene was relaying to her. Her next words were quieter: 'Giles heard that - that she tried to kill you.'

'She did', her old boyfriend affirmed.

That made her furious again. ' _And you decided to punish her with a severe cuddling?_ '

The two team members by the elevator shuffled awkwardly again, this whole picture didn't look good. Why couldn't Angel ever just put some clothes on? Had they not bought him enough pairs of pajamas that he could take a hint? But Angel didn't seem to fully understand the magnitude of what was happening in his crowded little apartment right now. He had a head full of Faith, mindful only of her redemption. Saving her because he could see himself in her. He was willing to ignore Buffy's pain, in order to comfort Faith, just as he had ignored Wesley's. _He was willing to ignore_ _ **Buffy's**_ _pain._

'Is that why you're here?' he demanded self righteously, 'to punish her?'

'I was worried about you,' she said.

The other slayer looked up from where she was sitting. She had been entranced, horrified by the blood on her hands, but now she noticed what was happening around her. Her eyes travelled over Doyle and Cordelia, who were still stood in the entrance to the elevator, and then travelled further round the room to the bottom of the stairs. She realised who was standing there. 'Buffy'.

Buffy's head whipped around to look at her dark haired counterpart. Faith recoiled from the anger and injury that she saw in the other slayer's eyes.

'Oh God.' She cringed away, trying to make herself as small as possible, but Buffy, now distracted from the naked vampire in front of her, walked towards the woman she had come here to find. Faith shuffled away up the daybed, trying to keep as much distance as possible.

'Did you think I wouldn't find you?'

Angel grabbed hold of her arm and swung Buffy around to face him again. Over by the elevator, Cordelia jumped a little. She had never seen Angel treat Buffy so roughly, not when he wasn't evil at least.

'Buffy, let's talk,' Angel said.

'Oh I don't think talking is in order right now.'

'She needs help.'

Buffy shook the vampire off her arm, furiously releasing herself from his grip. 'Help?' she shouted. 'Do you have any idea what she did to me?'

'Yes.' He didn't, of course he didn't. Faith hadn't mentioned the gadget the Mayor had given her or the body swap. She hadn't mentioned how Buffy had, in Faith's body, been taken by the council and had to escape, dodging the law as she did so, whilst a murderous Faith was left loose in Buffy's own body; in her house, with her mother, amongst her friends. With Riley.

All he knew was that Faith had somehow seduced and slept with Buffy's new boytoy. And he did Buffy the disservice of thinking that jealousy was the reason that had brought Buffy to L.A. And he was punishing her for that. For being jealous over a man who wasn't him. For being with a man who wasn't him. He didn't see it that way, of course. So blinded was he with redemptive zeal, so desperate to save Faith, because if there was hope for her then there was hope for him, that he had to assume the worst of Buffy's motives. As he had overlooked the needs and feelings of his friends that morning, so now too did he overlook the needs and feelings of Buffy; the only woman, in over 200 years, that he had ever claimed to love. He was being unreasonable, but he couldn't see it.

'Do you care what she did?' Buffy asked

'She wants to change … she has a chance to...' he could be talking about himself.

'No!' Buffy was adamant. 'No chance! Jail.'

Faith slowly stood up from the daybed and started to approach the fighting former lovers. Cordelia watched her in horror. She knew what Faith was going to try and do, and she couldn't believe she would try it. It was all she could do to not bury her face in Doyle's shoulder to hide, as she had done over the ladder and machetes earlier.

'Buffy.' The other slayer whipped around to face her. 'I'm sor-'

'Apologise to me and I will _beat_ you to death,' Buffy told her in a voice of barely controlled outraged.

'Go ahead,' Faith said to her. She was still looking to die, it was the easiest of her options right now.

Angel, still clad only in his towel, droplets of water from his shower still streaking down his chest, stood in front of Faith, to protect her from his former girlfriend. 'This isn't going to happen.'

'Are you gonna stop me?' Buffy wanted to know. 'Because you're gonna have to.'

'Don't do this,' Faith said to Angel. He turned to her.

'Go upstairs now.'

'There is no way I'm letting her out of my sight!'

Angel turned to his lurking friends, 'Doyle, Cordelia, take Faith upstairs. Stay with her.'

Faith moved towards the staircase, reluctantly Doyle and Cordy followed along. 'Cordelia!' Buffy addressed her friend for the first time. 'She needs to stay here, you two can't contain her, you know that.'

Cordelia stopped, uncertain. She was loyal to Angel, of course. But she was loyal to Buffy too. And she was also loyal to the idea of not getting her nose or her neck broken.

'Cordy!' Angel's voice had a warning edge to it. 'Get Faith out of here.'

The impasse was broken when Faith made a break for the stairs, dodging past the other slayer as she ran. 'Doyle, go, follow her! Make sure she doesn't leave.'

He ran after her, Buffy moving to let him past. After a moment's indecision Cordelia followed on, she didn't want to be left alone in the middle of the Buffy and Angel show.

...

Alone at last, the two former lovers looked at each other. 'And you think they'll be able to stop her? You're new sidekick and Cordelia? What's his power again? Visions? Hmm yeah, I can see how that'll be really helpful against a crazed slayer.'

'They'll stop her, she wants to be stopped. That's what will make the difference,' Angel assured her.

'She _needs_ to be stopped.' Buffy corrected him, 'and I'm gonna be the one to stop her.' She made as if to follow the three others up the stairs, but Angel grabbed hold of her arm and swung her back towards him. 'No.'

She lifted her free arm and swung her fist into his face as hard as she could, so he was forced to release her. On instinct, he swung straight back, connecting with her jaw. She stopped completely still, looking floored. She brought her hand up to her mouth, her eyes shining with tears. It wasn't the physical pain of the hit that stayed her, of course not, she was the slayer. She stared at the first man she had ever loved, the man she would always love more than anything in this world, her eyes full of sorrow and admonishment.

'Oh God.' Angel said, 'I'm sorry.'

'Just put some clothing on for God's sake,' she said, and turned away from him, grieving.

* * *

Faith hadn't left the office and Cordelia and Doyle were relieved to see that they would not have to try and fight her. They left her in Angel's private office, staring out of the window and went into their own outer office, where they could keep an eye on her from a safe distance. They leaned against the front of Cordelia's desk, side by side, and covertly eyed the slayer through the open door. They spoke in low voices so she wouldn't hear them.

'Buffy seemed really hurt,' Cordelia whispered, 'I think it must've been worse than usual this time.'

'Worse than having her boyfriend poisoned and having to feed herself to him to save his life?'

'I guess.'

'Is it me, or did Angel seem to be hurting a lot as well?' Doyle asked.

'Why would Angel be hurt? He's the one that chose to have Faith in his house whilst he performed the rippling ab show.'

'I told him about Buffy's new boyfriend,' Faith said from the doorway. They looked up in alarm, they hadn't realised she'd moved, or that she was listening. 'I didn't mean to… I didn't know he didn't know.'

Doyle whistled with surprised understanding. But Cordelia was intrigued. 'Buffy has a new boyfriend? What's he like, a rerun of Captain Morose, downstairs?'

'Cordy, maybe now's not the time, yeah?' Doyle said to her, but Faith was willing to answer.

'No he's this big, muscle bound, teutonic, cornfed Iowa boy. All homespun and folksy values.'

'Yuck! What is she thinking?'

It was nice. Having a normal conversation that wasn't about evil or redemption or how much pain you were in. This was how it could have been … If she'd just let Buffy be her friend. Cordelia would have been her friend as well. Gossiping about boys could have been the thing that they did. 'Gotta hand it to him, the boys got stamina, though.' she told Cordy.

'What?'

'I might have slept with him, that might be why she's so pissed.'

'Gee, Faith, is there anyone who's boyfriend you haven't slept with?' Cordelia suddenly gasped and raised her hand to her mouth, realising what she'd said and who she'd said it to. Faith turned away, back into Angel's office. And that was it - why she couldn't have been friends with Buffy or Cordy or Willow. Because she was a taker, a user. She took and took until no one else had anything left and she still wasn't happy. No wonder these other girls didn't want to be around her.

As fascinating as the girl talk was, Doyle was relieved when Wesley walked in.

'Doyle, Cordelia … Faith' he greeted them all, 'We've got trouble.'

* * *

Lilah walked into the office where Lee and Lindsey were waiting. 'Strike two,' she said.

'This is getting ridiculous,' Lee snarled through his broken nose. 'The first assassin kills the second assassin, who was sent to kill the first assassin - who didn't assassinate anyone until we hired the second assassin to assassinate the first assassin.'

'Well this obviously isn't working.' Lindsey said.

'You think?' Lilah had no time for the obvious.

'We're doing this wrong. We're lawyers we shouldn't try to operate outside of the law.'

'Are you being ironic?'

'Not at all. It's time we moved this to our own turf.'

* * *

Buffy and Angel were still downstairs. Angel had thankfully, put his clothes on, at Buffy's request and they were having one of their intense, heart breaking talks. They should really relocate to the sewer for this.

'You hit me', Buffy said to him, still sounding injured.

'Not to go all school yard, but you hit me first. And you're a bit stronger than I am.'

'But you did it for _her_!' It wasn't the violence that broke her heart; for her, pain and violence went had in hand with true love and passion. It was the reasoning. Angel hurt Buffy to protect Faith. Angel had chosen Faith over Buffy. That was never not going to hurt, more intensely than she would ever dare admit.

'She's playing you,' Buffy told the vampire. 'She tried to kill you - and she will again.'

'That was just a cry for help!'

'A cry for help is when you say 'help' in a loud voice.'

'I know she did some bad things to you.'

'You can't possibly know.'

'And you can't possibly know what she's going through.'

Buffy nodded slowly, with sarcastic understanding. 'And of course you do,' she surmised. 'Well. I'm sorry I can't be in your club. I never murdered anyone.'

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made them both look up. Faith was coming back down, followed by Wesley. 'There's been a change of plan', the watcher said. 'Faith, get your coat.' He then spoke to Angel: 'In about twenty minutes the council operations team are going to arrive here, with the aim of kidnapping Faith away to England. I had to pretend to help them to get time to warn you.'

'I know those guys', Buffy said. 'They're killers.'

Wesley nodded. 'Hello, Buffy, you appear to have come at rather a bad time. I think the best plan is for us to be elsewhere when they arrive. They've surrounded the building, the sewers will be our best bet.'

'Where are Doyle and Cordelia?' Angel wanted to know.

'I told them to leave, this isn't their fight. We may as well have as few people as possible in the crossfire.'

'Let's go.' The vampire turned to look for Faith, but she was gone.

'She'd go to the roof', Angel said, Buffy turned and left. Angel went to follow her, but Wesley stopped him.

'The sewers are still our best bet', he said. 'Buffy can protect Faith.'

'I'm not sure that was on her agenda.'

The two men headed towards the sewer access. 'Angel, I didn't do this for her.' Wesley told him.

'I know.'

* * *

Lindsey arrived at the police precinct and made his way to Kate's desk. Detective Lockley did not look pleased to see him. 'I have some information that will be of interest to you,' he told her.

'I doubt that, I despise you and everything you represent, and by 'thing' and 'represent' I do mean your clients.'

Lindsey just smiled pleasantly. 'Be that as it may, Detective Lockley, we do have one thing in common.'

'Our bodies are both 80% water?'

'An enemy.' He dropped a photograph of Angel onto her desk. She looked at it.

'I don't understand.'

'That woman you're looking for, she's with him. We both know what he is Detective Lockley, he thinks he's above the law. He's giving aid and comfort to a murderer, a fugitive. I guess maybe he sees himself in her. But you're not going to stand for that are you? Not in your city?'

'There must be some mistake', Kate said, still staring at the picture of Angel.

* * *

Buffy found Faith on the roof top. She was furious. 'You're not gonna run again, Faith.'

'What are you gonna do? Throw me off the roof - again?'

'Is there any reason I shouldn't?'

Faith tried to plead with her, to just let her go. 'There's nothing I can do to make this right,' she said. 'So just let me go.'

'Leave us to clean up your mess, again?'

'It's easier.'

'Yeah', the blonde slayer retorted, angrily, 'until you get bored and blow back into town looking to shake things up.'

'That won't happen,' her dark counterpart replied.

'No. It won't'

'Angel said you wouldn't understand', Faith cried. 'That you wouldn't give me a chance -'

'I gave you _every_ chance', Buffy interrupted, 'and you spat in my face at every turn. My life was just a plaything to you. I've lost fights before, Faith, but no one else has _ever_ made me a a victim.'

'And you can't stand that!' Faith raged back at her, 'because you're all about control. You have no idea what it's like on the other side. Where it's all pain and confusion and everything hurts…'

'Shut up!' Buffy wasn't going to listen to Faith paint herself as the injured party. She wasn't going to let the dark slayer convince herself that her side of the story had some merit too.

'Just tell me how to make it better.' Faith pleaded.

The door to the roof burst open and Collins walked out, carrying a machine gun. He opened fire.

* * *

Even down in the apartment, the sound of the gun could be heard. 'That's coming from the roof,' Angel said, 'we need to get to them.' He headed for the stairs and was cut off by three people coming down. Doyle was first, his hands in the air. Weatherby was next, pointing his own machine gun into Doyle's back, with his other arm he dragged Cordelia, holding a knife at her throat.

'Y'know it's a funny thing.' Weatherby said, 'threaten _this_ girl…' he indicated Cordelia by tightening his grip on her, 'with a knife, and _this_ boy…' he nudged Doyle with the machine gun, 'will do anything you tell him. Love has no place in the good fight. It makes you weak. That's the way it's always been at the council. That's why everything has always gone wrong ever since we called that Summers girl - with her friends who brought her back from the dead, mucking up the way we'd done everything for a thousand generations, two slayers at once!' He spat. 'And Rupert Giles getting fired, because he had a father's love for his slayer, leading to _you._ ' He swung his gun to point it at Wesley. 'And then there was the vampire...' He threw Cordelia away from himself, and she tumbled into Doyle's arms. He held her tightly, relieved beyond words to get her back unharmed.

Weatherby used his now free hand to draw a crossbow out from where it was slung on his back. He pointed it at Angel. 'Hello Vampire,' he said.


	44. Sanctuary: Part Four

The two slayers cowered from the machine gun fire behind the skylight. All the strength and fighting prowess in the world did not make the two young women bullet proof, and one of the marks of a truly great warrior was knowing when not to fight, but to run … or hide. But even when faced with bullets, a slayer was not beaten. They could still put their supernatural abilities to some use: 'I think we can make it to the next building,' Buffy told Faith. They couldn't face down a machine gun, but they could jump to safety, something no normal human could do.

'Go!' yelled Faith and they both ran from the safety of the skylight towards the edge of the roof, picking up speed to aid them in the jump to the next high rise. But as they made it to the verge of the roof they were stopped in their tracks by a helicopter appearing straight in front of them. Smith sat in the open doorway to the cabin, his own machine gun in hand.

* * *

'Weatherby, please see reason...' Wesley spoke to the man with the crossbow aimed at his friend.

'Reason?' Weatherby spat out, 'A watcher, working for a vampire. It's perversion.' He kept Angel covered with his weapon, knowing where the real danger came from. 'And the other boy...' he said, jerking his head in Doyle's direction. 'You think I don't know what he is, too? The lady, then, what's she?'

Doyle held Cordelia tighter and moved himself so he was blocking more of her with his own body. 'Cordelia's human.' He said. 'You can't hurt her.'

'Just a girl then is it?' Weatherby eyed her up. Something about her seemed to surprise him. He was probably wondering how a woman like Cordelia ended up working with a vampire, a watcher and a half demon, Doyle figured.

Whilst Weatherby's attention had been on Doyle and Cordy, Wesley had cautiously moved himself to hide behind one of the brick pillars. Angel was behind another. But their two colleagues couldn't hold the council operative's attention forever, and he soon switched back to the two that really interested him.

* * *

Collins had to reload and Buffy saw her chance. 'I'm gonna take this guy out', she said to Faith. 'The one in the helicopter will go for me, you stay here.'

Faith nodded her assent and Buffy dove out from behind the skylight and tackled the leader of the operatives. In the helicopter, Smith tried to take aim, but he couldn't get a clear shot at the blonde slayer without risking hitting his colleague.

Left alone, the dark slayer considered her options...

* * *

'Weatherby!' Wesley called out from behind his pillar, hoping to make the man see sense, but the gun toting operative was in no mood to listen to reason.

'Loyal to a vampire? Friends with a half breed mongrel? Do the sacred oaths you swore as a watcher mean nothing to you now?' he snarled.

'They mean a great deal to me,' Wesley called back. 'I swore to protect the innocent and that is what I do, as do my friends, regardless of their species.'

'The good fight is humans against demons, our kind against _their_ kind.' The venom he put into words left no one in any doubt as to just how much Weatherby hated Angel and Doyle, just for being what they were.

'I no longer believe that is true!' Wesley retorted. 'Goodness is not limited to humanity, we are not the only creatures with souls.'

'These monsters deserve to die, and time was it was your job to ensure that happened. You lost your way, Pryce. What would your father say if he could see these _things_ you call friends?'

He didn't notice, but Weatherby had just made a serious enemy out of Cordelia Chase, if holding her hostage at knife point hadn't already done the job. She wasn't going to let someone talk about Doyle that way and get away with it, he was her ...friend. Only she was allowed to be rude to him.

'My father doesn't understand any better than you do,' Wesley said. 'That doesn't make me wrong.' He glanced across at Angel, hidden behind the next pillar. 'You need to get up to the roof' he hissed 'Now!'

Angel charged out from his hiding place and ran for the stairs. Weatherby fired the crossbow but missed, the vampire shouldered him aside and ran up the stairs. The council hit-man dropped his crossbow and opened fire with his machine gun. 'Bastard!' he shouted at Wesley. The former watcher stayed very still behind his pillar. Doyle knocked Cordelia to the ground, they landed just inside the elevator, and he lay on top of her hoping to protect her from the deadly onslaught. But Cordelia was having none of it, she wriggled out from under him, staying low and, amidst the hail of bullets ricocheting around the room, she slammed the elevator gate shut and hammered on the button. With a creaking groan, the elevator came to life and slowly ascended the two of them to the relative safety of the office.

...

As soon as it stopped, she pulled the gate open again and rushed out. Doyle grabbed a hold of her hand to stop her. 'What are y' doin'?'

'We need to go back and stop that guy.'

'He's got a gun, Cordy!'

'Wesley's down there all alone, we can get behind gun toting maniac guy - he'll have to reload soon! We can help.'

Doyle nodded, they would help, but he insisted on going ahead of Cordelia as they crept back down the stairs.

Cordy was right, Weatherby was having to reload, he had expended his first lot of bullets in his frustrated firing after Angel had escaped.

Wesley took advantage of the moment and stepped out from behind the pillar. He threw the needle he had been given to sedate Faith through the air as if it were a dart. Thank heavens he'd got in all that practice at the theme pub. The tranq stuck straight into Weatherby's neck and the older man dropped his gun. '180' Wesley smiled. He approached the woozy hit-man.

Doyle and Cordelia reached the bottom of the stairs just in time to see Wesley punch the council operative, as he stood there swaying with the effects of the sedative strong enough to down a slayer. 'That's for calling me a ponce,' Wesley said. Weatherby fell face forward and, as he did, Cordelia raised her foot and kicked him hard in the face. Her two colleagues looked at her, surprised. 'That's for everything else that he said,' she told them.

* * *

Meanwhile, Angel had raced up the stairwell, through the entire building, trying to get to the two slayers as quickly as he could. Through the skylight above the staircase he could see the hovering helicopter and Smith, training his gun on the roof.

...

Buffy had beaten Collins to a bloody pulp, she gave him one last blow and he collapsed to the ground. Immediately, the slayer whirled around to face the helicopter - exposed to gunfire now that Collins was no longer in shot.

As she turned, the glass from the skylight exploded upwards and Angel launched through the air, catching hold of the left rung of the chopper. He reached up and pulled Smith forwards. The final council operative fell onto the rooftop, right at Buffy's feet. He looked up at the furious slayer standing above him.

Angel clambered up so that he was standing on the rung, he vamped out and stuck his head through the pilot's window. 'Take her down,' he demanded. The pilot did not need telling twice.

Buffy watched the helicopter turn away and start to descend. She then looked back to the skylight where she had left the other slayer. 'Faith!'. But the other girl had gone.

* * *

As the helicopter landed in the road, a half dozen police cars, their sirens blaring, pulled up and surrounded the building. Kate got out of one of the cars and looked at her former friend. 'Angel,' she said.

'Kate.'

If the detective was confused as to where the chopper had come from and why the vampire was riding on the outside of it, she didn't show it. She knew he got up to things normal people would never believe, riding the skies standing on the rung of a helicopter was probably just another day for the dark avenger, the last thing he needed was people acting like they thought he was impressive. He didn't deserve that. But today was not just another day, today he had crossed a line, an important line, and it was her responsibility to correct that.

'I have reason to believe that you are aiding and abetting a fugitive, Angel. Where is she?'

The vampire said nothing.

'Dammit, Angel, you have exactly one chance. Tell me where Faith Lehane is.'

He still said nothing. She shrugged. 'I didn't want to do it this way, Angel, remember that.' She turned to one of her officers, 'cuff him.' She launched into the Miranda rights: 'You are being arrested on suspicion of aiding and abetting a wanted felon. You have the right to remain silent.' Angel might have crossed a line, but she was still going to do things by the book.

* * *

The Angelmobile squealed up outside of the police precinct and Wesley, Buffy, Doyle and Cordy all poured out of it and rushed inside to find where Kate had taken Angel. They found the vampire being led up to the squad room by Detective Lockley. 'Angel!' Buffy cried.

'Who are you? Get out of here,' Kate said to her, sounding irritated.

'Angel you are not going to take the fall for her!' the slayer shouted. She turned to her former boyfriend's three friends looking for support.

'She's right, man,' Doyle said. 'Y'Know you can't do this.' Cordelia and Buffy nodded along to his words.

'All four of you, out of my way,' Kate commanded, forcing the handcuffed Angel forward, pushing her way past the two women and Wesley. She came up short when she got to Doyle. This was the first time she had seen the half demon since she had shot him in her father's apartment.

'Detective Lockley, please, y'know you can't arrest him…' He fixed her with his most intense, pleading stare.

'I already have done, Doyle.' He carried on looking at her, she dropped her gaze. 'Look, I'm sorry I shot you, I'm sorry I thought you were just another de-'evil thing' and I'm grateful you saved my father's life. I really am. But the law is the law and Angel broke it. If he won't give me Lehane then he'll have to be charged with helping her. It's his choice. Not mine.'

'No!' Buffy tried to pull Angel away from the detective.

'Ma'am if you don't move away then I'll have to arrest you too,' Kate told her.

'Oh I'd like to see you try.'

'Buffy, it's fine.' Angel told her.

'No it isn't. She isn't worth this! Faith ..'

'Buffy!' Angel had just noticed someone sitting across the squad room, and he cut the slayer off mid sentence, nodding across the room to show her what he'd seen. The four of his friends, and Kate, all fell silent as they too looked at what the vampire was seeing.

On noticing the small group, Faith stood up and approached the detective. 'I'd like to make a confession,' she said.

* * *

Angel had been released and was standing with his friends, waiting for Faith to finish talking to Kate, hoping the detective would come and let them know what would happen to the other slayer. They made an uncomfortable little group. Buffy wanted to get back to Sunnydale, to get back to Riley. But she wanted to speak to Angel first, close things out between them, and she really didn't want to do that with an audience. 'Could you guys .. would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?' she asked his friends.

She made eye contact with Cordelia, who nodded understandingly and dragged Doyle off down the hallway 'c'mon we do not want to get in the middle of this cry fest,' she said to him, and they headed on out the door to wait by the car. Wesley smiled at the pair of them, 'I'll just pop into the squad room, see if there's any news on Faith, yet.' He headed in the opposite direction of his two friends, going further into the building. Buffy and Angel were now alone in the corridor.

'You should have told me what was going on,' Buffy said to him.

'I didn't - I didn't think it was your business.'

'Not my business?' she was incredulous.

'I needed more time with Faith - I wasn't sure …'

'You needed more time with … Do you have _any_ idea what it was like for me to see you with her? That you went behind my back …'

'This wasn't about you!' Angel exploded. 'It was about _her_. Saving _her_ soul. That's what I do here … and you're not a part of it… that was your decision, remember - we stay away from each other.'

' _No I do not remember!_ This was all your decision. You left _me!_ You just decided what was best and you left me! And I had _no choice_ but to accept that. So yeah, I want to stay away as far as I can because it hurts too much. It hurts to be around you, Angel, because _none of this_ was my decision. You're life here? You're little mission? This was all your doing, not mine. I came to see you because I thought you were in danger, I was worried. Just like you did for me at Thanksgiving, only I did you the courtesy of letting you know I was here. And now you tell me that it's not my business? That I don't get to be any part of your life? _Cordelia_ is a part of your life and I'm not. I come in what? a poor third after _Faith_?'

'That's ridiculous, Buffy. You know what you will always mean to me. But we can't be together … It's what we decided is for the best.'

'It's what _you_ decided!' she raged. She pushed her hair back, and wiped her eyes. 'You know what, though. You're right. It has been for the best. I have someone in my life now. Someone I love. He makes me happy.' She hoped she could make him feel just a tiny bit of the pain she felt, that she could make him understand what it was like to see Faith held in his arms, by parading the knowledge of Riley under his nose.

'That's good,' the vampire said. 'That's why I left, to give you a chance at a normal life.' He was hurt, she knew it, but he was hiding his pain. So he couldn't be hurt that badly. When it was as raw as it was for her, there was no hiding it. This reaction wasn't good enough, so she pushed.

'It's not like we had,' she continued. 'Nothing like we had. The reason for that is because I _trust_ him. I _know_ him.'

She'd done it. She'd got under his skin. 'That's great, Buffy,' he said 'You've moved on. Nice. Well I can't. I'm not allowed to. I see you again and it cuts me up inside and the person I have to share that with is me. You don't know me anymore. So don't come down here with your great new life and expect me to do things your way. This is my town and I save the people here my own way, and then I go home - alone. I don't need to hear about you great new boyfriend and I don't have to tell you what I'm doing or why I'm doing it. I call the shots here, and if you don't like that then stay in Sunnydale!'

She looked at him sadly, thinking of the pain she'd been feeling since she had found Faith cradled in his arms and of how that pain had made her push him, wanting to prove to herself that she was still the only one that mattered. Faith just got inside of you and poisoned everything until there was nothing good left. She'd nearly destroyed things with Riley and now she'd destroyed things with Angel. 'I guess Faith wins again,' Buffy said.

'Just go home,' the vampire told him. She turned and left, without a backwards glance.

* * *

Outside, Doyle and Cordelia sat on the steps at the front of the precinct. It couldn't be a more different night to the previous one with its apocalyptic rainstorm. This one was warm and balmy, and one could imagine the stars would be out shining their brightest. You couldn't see them of course, not in the middle of L.A, but you could imagine them. It was a beautiful night, the moon was just past full and was beginning to wane, it seemed like a night created especially for lovers. But Cordelia was not sure.

'D'you think there's really any point?' she asked Doyle. They were sat so close together their knees were touching.

'Any point to what?'

'Love.'

'Ummm… that sounds unusually bleak, darlin.'

'Does it? Look at Buffy and Angel. They're supposed to be this great romance for all time and they can barely stand to be in the same room as each other. Sure it started out well, but look where they are. Does the end of love ever not suck?'

'Well .. the _end_ of love is always gonna suck, right? But that doesn't mean that love has to end. I think we don't have to pay too much attention to Angel and Buffy, they're a special case. For those of us who are more … who are less….' he struggled for the words.

'Those of us who aren't superfreaks?' Cordelia supplied.

He looked at her reproachfully, but that must have basically been what he was trying to say, because he stopped searching for his own expression and carried on with his point: 'It can be nicer. More normal. Happily ever after, y'know? Not every relationship is doomed to failure.'

'What about you and Harri?'

'Well ...OK, that one was doomed to failure.' He grinned at the girl next to him. 'But only 'cause you and me were meant to be, yeah?'

She nudged him hard in the ribs to show her disapproval, but her actions did not match the smile that lit up her face. 'Me and Xander weren't superfreaks and he still cheated on me. _On me!_ I heard Willow and Oz split up. Miss Calender _died_ so Giles is all alone … and no one will ever love Wesley.'

Doyle chuckled at that bit. 'I still think you're being too harsh, Princess. You can't assume that, just because your high school relationships didn't work out, love is a waste of time. Things get better as you get older.'

'Really?'

'I have it on good authority.'

She squished up even closer to him and put her hand on his leg. He put his hand over the top of hers and smiled at her. Their fingers interlaced.

'Y'know what worries me, though?' he said after a long moment.

'What?'

'This stuff with Faith… you said, the other day about Marquez, that the universe doesn't hand out destinies to people who don't deserve them, aren't special?'

'Yeah?'

'Are you honestly tellin' me that the universe looked at every teenage girl that was available, _a population which included you_ , and decided that _Faith_ was the best person for the job? That she was the special one?' He shook his head. 'I think, at best, the handing out of destiny is random, and at worst ...it's a punishment. Like it is for Angel...and me... Will you be really mad if it turns out that I'm no one special after all?'

Cordelia put her head down on his shoulder. 'It isn't the visions that make you special, Doyle', she told him.

He rested his head on top of hers and they sat out on the steps like that, their fingers still locked together, until Buffy stormed out of the precinct and marched away into the night.

'I guess we'd better go in and see how Angel's doin'.'

* * *

Angel was still stood in the hallway, his face more pensive than usual, his demeanour unusually dour. As the pair of them approached, he thumped the wall in frustration. Wesley appeared at the other end of the corridor and the vampire spoke to all three of them: 'you know? For a shadowy, taciturn guy, I really do have a big mouth.'

'It didn't go too well, huh?' Cordelia asked. He didn't even bother to dignify that with an answer.

'Do you want to go after her?' Wesley wanted to know.

'Yes.' But he didn't move.

'Maybe it's best y' just leave it for now, bud. I know it's hard, but you can always ring her up when she gets home. It might be less ...painful over the phone.'

'For what it's worth,' Wesley said, 'in my opinion you did the right thing.'

Angel frowned, 'Yelling at Buffy?'

'No, the other thing.'

'I didn't do anything, Faith did it.'

'She'd never have had the strength to do it if you hadn'a helped her out last night', Doyle told him, as Cordelia nodded along. 'You really have saved a soul right there. Not just her life. _Her soul_. The whole point of our little mission.'

'I just hope she's strong enough to make it,' Wesley said. 'Peace is not an easy thing to find.'

'She can get proper help, now though', Cordelia said, 'that will make a difference, right? Industrial strength therapy?'

'Yeah,' said Angel. 'She has a chance.'

The four of them left the precinct together, the fractures of that morning left behind and forgotten. They were whole again, as they drove homeward. A family once more.

* * *

Faith sat alone in her jail cell. She leaned against the wall and listened to the noises of the precinct just outside of the locked door. She had given up freedom but, as she closed her eyes, she thought that she might just have found peace.


	45. War Zone: Part One

Alonna ran down the dark alleyway, wrapping her long, green cardigan around her as she did. She was being followed. She just hoped she could get to safety before her pursuers caught up with her. She followed the path round the next bend and sighed with relief. Her protector was there, at the end of the road, waiting for her, ready to make her safe again.

She ran towards him and, behind her, the vampires picked up their pace as well. They came up short when they saw who was waiting for them. 'You!' one of the vampires snarled when he saw the tall man, dressed all in black, that stood facing them. The man held a sword and there was a righteous glower on his handsome, young face. 'You expectin' somebody else?' Gunn asked.

A Pickup truck, decked out with giant stakes drove up behind him, and his crew climbed down. The Vampires were caught in the glare of the headlights. The street kids set to work.

* * *

'Oh my goodness, Look at this!' Cordelia squealed as she glanced around at her opulent surroundings. She squeezed Doyle's arm, through which her own was, naturally, threaded, and gave him an excited smile. He smiled back, her enthusiasm was infectious. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply 'I miss that smell,' she said.

Wesley sniffed. 'Camembert, I believe,' he told the group.

'No!' Cordelia laughed in disbelief at his stupidity. 'Not the cheese, the money! I like the smell of a little money once in awhile.'

'She's not even joking,' Angel told the two other men. 'Hide a bit in the office sometime and watch her go - it's uncanny.'

Doyle and Wesley laughed and Cordelia gave them all a disapproving look. 'I know you all think I'm shallow, but somebody has to think of our finances. We can't help the hopeless on love alone, guys.'

'Ah, we don't think you're shallow, princess,' Doyle told her. 'We just don't have your hard head for financial matters. We'd be lost without you.'

'You'd be broke without me,' she muttered. Sometimes her business savvy was the only thing that kept them afloat, and when that didn't work, her 'Stain Be Gone' money would get them through to the end of the month. But tonight was a chance to recoup all her losses and create a nice cushion of savings for Angel Investigations' bank balance. They had received a phone call from none other than software billionaire David Nabbit asking them for help, and now they were at his house ready to meet with him. And he was throwing a fabulous Hollywood party, the type that only the super wealthy could afford to give or attend. This was where Cordelia really belonged!

She pointed to a short, plumpish guy in a plaid shirt who was sitting all alone in the middle of the bustle. 'There he is!' she told the men, and she dropped her arm from out of Doyle's and went to greet their new client. The men shuffled along behind her, feeling out of place in amidst the glamorous soiree. 'Mr. Nabbit! Hi!' she said, sticking her hand out to shake. He got up, looking amazed that somebody, and a somebody who looked like Cordelia at that, was actually talking to him. 'Hi' he said, 'glad you could come.'

'Thanks.' She beamed at him.

'Thanks for having us,' Angel said, also reaching out to shake hands.

'It's a pleasure - who are you?'

'Oh! I'm Cordelia Chase? We spoke on the phone?'

'Oh right, right, thank you for coming.' He turned back to the vampire, 'you must be Angel, then?'

'Yes, pleased to meet you. These are my associates, Wesley and Doyle.' The two other men nodded their greetings.

'Lovely party,' Wesley said.

'Isn't it nice?' Nabbit agreed.

They all nodded their heads again, it was kind of uncomfortable talking to this little man, conversation didn't exactly flow around him. Cordelia gazed around the room again and then hit Doyle in excitement and pointed. 'Oh my goodness is that Welling Harding?' she asked. Doyle screwed up his face in annoyance. It was, and Harding was very tall and good looking and well dressed, and rich, as well, the half demon imagined. Everything that he wasn't, in fact. Maybe they should have left Cordelia back in the office … I mean sure she'd nabbed this gig, but Doyle shouldn't have to be putting up with the possibility that she might run off with a far superior man than himself whilst they were on the clock.

'I have no idea,' Nabbit admitted. 'I don't know most of these people. I I I ...I have these parties, these people come. I -I think they have fun.' He picked up a silver tray of appetisers and offered them to the team. 'These are crab,' he told them. Both Doyle and Cordy instantly reached out and picked one up.

Angel looked uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than he normally did in social gatherings, like he'd just realised they were intruding. 'If this is a bad time we could always…'

'Miss Chase said you could only meet at night,' Nabbit told him.

'It is more convenient,' the vampire confessed.

'And - that we'd be less conspicuous during a large party.'

Her three co workers all turned to stare at her, disapprovingly, but she just grinned at them and shrugged. 'It's our cover' she told them.

'I think it's good!' Nabbit was eager to agree with a woman as beautiful as Cordelia. 'We probably won't be interrupted.'

Doyle shook his head sadly, a billionaire with no friends, how was that even possible?

'I always said I'd earn a billion dollars in the software market and learn to talk to girls. I -uh - I'm still working on step two.'

_Tragic_. Doyle let out a deep sigh. Angel gave him a funny look and then turned back to their new client. 'So why don't you tell us about the case?' he asked.

'OK.' Nabbit motioned them all to a plush sofa, where they sat down to talk. Cordelia kept glancing around the room to watch what the rich people were doing, and she kept sneaking more of the crab appetisers. Doyle grabbed another whilst there were still some left.

'It's a case of ... it's a... black...mail ...thing. Have you ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?' the billionaire asked.

'I've seen a few, in my time, yeah.' Angel replied.

'I think Mr. Nabbit is referring to the role playing game,' Wesley told him.

'Oh.'

'Well I used to play it a lot in high school.' the little man said. 'It's a rush, you know. You get to pretend that you're someone else for a while. A wizard or a warrior. You know, the whole world is magic and you're fighting troglodytes and romancing - uh - exotic demon princesses.'

Doyle raised his eyebrows at that last bit.

'Did someone find out you were a big nerd?' Cordelia asked, tactful as ever. But Nabbit just chuckled ruefully at that bit. 'Oh, no, I'm afraid that's a matter of public record. But you see some of the guys got really into it … especially the romancing demon princesses part.'

'Ew!' Cordelia said. Doyle looked at her. 'Oh I don't mean you, give it over.' she said in exasperation, before turning back to the client: 'please go on.' But Nabbit seemed to have got a little stuck on this part of the story, he was struggling to find the words to continue and seemed greatly relieved when a sudden look of realisation crossed Wesley's face and he finished up for him. 'You went to Madam Dorian's?'

'J-just once,' Nabbit stammered.

The three others looked at Wesley, searching for clarification. 'It's a demon brothel,' he told them. Doyle whistled.

'Maybe... twice.' The billionaire hadn't noticed they weren't listening to him.

'I say again: _ew_ '

Doyle had to agree with that bit. He couldn't be against romancing demons on principle, because if he felt that way he could never ask Cordelia to love him, but _paying to sleep with a demon?_ That was a step too far. Several steps too far.

'It's in Bel Air, I believe,' Wesley informed the group, 'the Watcher's Council is _rife_ with stories about it'.

Cordelia snorted 'I bet it is!'

'OK,' said Angel now he had the picture, 'and how many…'

'12 times in total' their client confessed. Doyle struggled not to screw his face up in disgust. It was not his place to judge rich people, not so they could see, anyway.

'How many people knew about you going?' Angel finished.

'Oh,' said Nabbit, embarrassed. 'Just my friends - but my security guys identified the guy with the … the pictures.' Doyle and Cordelia grimaced at each other, before slapping polite smiles back on their faces and turning, once more towards Nabbit. The billionaire was still talking. He had taken out a photograph and was showing it to Angel. 'This is Lenny Edwards - I just can't find him.'

Angel held the picture out to Doyle and the half demon took it. It showed a bald, tough looking guy, smoking. 'Do you know him?' Angel asked

'Nope,' Doyle said, it wasn't one of his contacts.

'Will you be able to find him?'

'I'm pretty sure one of my guys'll know where he is.'

'If my stockholder's see these pictures…'

'They won't,' Angel stood up and put his coat back on. 'Doyle'll track him down and I'll persuade him to give up the pictures. They won't see the light of day.'

'We are very discreet,' Cordelia promised the little billionaire. 'Case in point, we'll just stick around and mingle for a couple of hours so no one will suspect a thing.' And she dragged Doyle off deep into the party, leaving the socially awkward vampire, the socially awkward billionaire and the socially awkward watcher sitting on the sofa, feeling awkward.

* * *

Gunn and his street gang were doing some damage. There was enough of them that they could hold their own against five or six vamps. The guy on top of the truck swung the mounted crossbow round and nailed one of the creatures right through the heart, he exploded into dust. Another vamp was attacking five of the kids all at once, his super strength compensating for their advantage in numbers, but Gunn stepped up behind him and swept his sword through the air in giant arc, cutting straight through the vampire's neck. There was another cloud of dust. The kid with the crossbow hit another, and yet another was staked in the general melee.

One vampire, though, broke one of the kid's necks and then advanced on the guy on top of the truck; the guy who had taken out two vampires by himself: the biggest threat. The two of them fought, but hand to hand the kid was no match for a vampire and he found himself lifted up and thrown around. Sharp teeth sank into his throat and he closed his eyes, waiting for the end. 'Bobby!' Alonna was there and she had her own weapon, a large pike, which she used to attack the creature. Gunn ran towards them, hefting his sword and the vampire, sensing he was outmanned, took off and ran down the alleyway. The other remaining vampire followed him and the gang were left to pick up their dead and drive home.

...

The truck stopped outside the deserted building they were currently using as a base, and Alonna and Gunn carefully carried Bobby inside. They lay him on the floor, he was bleeding badly.

'Hey Gunn,' he said.

'Right here man,' Gunn knelt beside him and clasped his hand.

'He picked me up like I was a baby!' Bobby said, distressed about the vampire.

'He's dust, man, forget about him.'

'I aint a baby.'

Alonna looked at the wound on his neck, she had tried to stem the blood flow but it wasn't working. 'He needs a doctor,' she told Gunn. Bobby stopped moving and Gunn looked at him, sadly. 'Not any more.'

He got back to his feet and called for one of his deputies. 'James! How we fixed for tonight?'

'Beck and me lifted some canned stuff, but there wasn't anything in the bins outside Mel's. Plus theses guys showed up', he waved his hand towards three teens standing uncomfortably in the room, 'I told them we don't take squatters.'

But Gunn shook his head at him. They'd lost people tonight and they needed replacements. And the streets were a dangerous place to send a kid out after dark. 'Everybody eats.' He said.

* * *

The team were back in the office, sitting around whilst Doyle made phone calls.

'Uhuh ...guy named Lenny Edwards, into blackmailing. Have you heard anything about him. No huh? … A C note? Didn't I pay y' that back?' Cordelia raised her eyebrows at him, but Doyle just smiled at her reassuringly. 'No problem, i'll get it to y'. Just let me know if you hear anything on this Edwards guy, yeah?' He put the phone down. 'Manny the Pig doesn't know nothin.'

'Manny the Pig seems to know that you haven't paid back everything you owe,' Cordelia pointed out to him.

'Hey, I owe a lot of guys a lot of money, I'm working my way around. The system is more complicated than y'know though, darlin. I owe some people other people owe me ...I do a favour for some guy and the debt goes away. Sometimes debts get sold on. I can owe money to people I've never even heard of, y'know? It's takin' a while finding out where the money's meant to go.'

'That's some real good life choices you made there, Doyle,' she said.

'And thanks to you I'm puttin' it right.'

'All this is fascinating,' Angel chipped in. 'But we need to find Edwards, maybe we could just go down to Madam Dorian's and ask.'

'No.' They all looked at Cordelia. 'Doyle's not going to some skanky demon brothel, and neither should you.'

'We'd be working, Cordelia.'

'Uhuh - sure you would. Not gonna happen.'

'You can't think I'd be interested in some demon girl, Cordelia!' Doyle protested 'And I would never _pay_. You can't just go round _buying_ people.'

'Technically, I think it's renting,' she told him.

'That's even worse!'

'Right. So you don't wanna go and I don't want you to go, why are we arguing? Ring someone up already'

'It just might be quicker if we…' the vampire trailed off under Cordelia's furious glare and Doyle picked up the phone again and began to dial the next guy in his book.

'According to council lore, Madam Dorian operates a strict no vampire policy, so she wouldn't talk to you anyway,' Wesley told his boss.

'You could always go.'

'Angel! Sending Wesley alone to a demon brothel is never going to be the quickest way to do something. We'd lose him for at least a week.'

Wesley looked extremely offended by her words. Meanwhile, Doyle was actually making some progress: 'Uhuh...uhuh… thanks Kizzie, I owe you one.' He slammed the phone down triumphantly. 'I know where he'll be,' he told the others.


	46. War Zone: Part Two

Alonna was looking for Gunn. She crouched down by one of the street kids and asked if he'd seen her brother, the kid pointed him out. He was just coming down the stairs. 'Gunn we need to talk,' she said to him.

'Yeah? What about?'

'Bobby.'

'No we don't need to talk about that.' His eyes took on a blank look, like he was closing down on the inside.

'We're dyin' here, Gunn,' she said, her voice taking on a pleading tone.

'Everyone dies.' He was stoic, emotionless. He had no time for pain or regret, they were luxuries he couldn't afford and Alonna couldn't afford them either. She needed to understand that. But she didn't. 'We just gotta make sure they stay dead when it happens,' he told her.

'It shouldn't have gone down the way it did tonight. You're getting reckless G.'

'I do what I gotta do.'

'No you do more than you gotta do. Three weeks with no action and you just had to ring the dinner bell. You couldn't last another minute without a kill.'

'You think I like this?' he demanded.

'No. I think you love it! And you won't quit until you get as close to death as you possibly can.'

He shook his head, 'that aint true.'

'I hope not. Because I don't wanna lose you.'

He pulled his sister into an embrace and kissed her forehead, comfortingly. 'That aint gonna happen,' he assured her.

Two more guys were coming down the stairs, and Gunn let go of Alonna to speak with them. She sighed. He said what she wanted to hear, but the moment there was the promise of action, he forgot every word he said to her. 'Yo Chain! You found 'em?'

'Yeah, dead boy led me right to their nest. It's right around the corner. Next to the old blue jean factory'

'Alright!' Gunn shook his hand, 'now we got a chance to do some real damage.'

One of the lookouts stationed at the door came running down the stairs, crossbow in hand. 'We got an incoming!' he said, 'jumping from rooftop to rooftop.'

The leader turned on his deputy. 'You were followed?' he demanded furiously.

'Nuhuh, man, no way, we were careful!'

'Then let's go check this out.'

The small group of street kids headed up the stairs.

* * *

Wesley had headed home and Doyle and Cordelia were left in the office waiting for Angel. Cordelia could have gone already, but she was waiting for Doyle to walk her home, again, and Doyle wanted to stay to check that his source had worked out. They were sitting on the sofa, Doyle was reading the paper and Cordelia was flicking through a magazine, they were silent but companionable, and as always they were just about touching. This time their feet were intertwined on the floor, having a game of footsie that appeared to be completely independent from the rest of them, as they got on with their own separate thing. Doyle rustled his paper, Cordy turned the page of her glossy mag. Doyle rustled again. She looked up, 'what?'

'Nothin'.'

'You keep rustling that thing, you're not reading it! What gives?'

'Are you mad at me because I haven't paid all the money back yet?'

She frowned. 'If it's as complicated as you say it is… I don't know how these things work, I have to trust you.'

'You can trust me, Cordelia.'

She smiled at him, 'I hope so. The real question is: have you gambled with any of the money I gave you?'

'O'course not!' he sounded outraged at the very idea. 'I wouldn't do that to y'. I didn't deserve for you to give me your commercial money, it was more than I couldda ever asked for. I'm putting things right Cordy. This is my second chance and you made it possible. I'm not gonna muck things up this time.'

'Then I'm not mad at you.'

'Would you have been mad at me If I'd gone to the demon brothel?'

She glared at him.

''Cause you gotta know, you could trust me there too!' he protested. 'I've only got eyes for you, Cordy, no one else.'

'But you think I have eyes for Welling Harding?' He looked at her. 'Oh, I saw the look on your face when I spotted him, buddy, don't think I didn't. You think jealousy is a one way street?'

'You don't ever have to be jealous over me, Cordelia.'

'And you don't ever have to be jealous over me.'

'OK then.'

'OK.'

They went back to their reading, their feet still intertwined.

* * *

Lenny Edwards was just getting into his car, when Angel turned up behind him and grabbed him and twisted him around so they were facing each other. It didn't seem to bother Lenny, he'd been grabbed and threatened plenty of times in the past. He looked this new guy up and down - pretty boy, a poser in that long, swirly coat of his. Nothing there that frightened Lenny. 'What do you want?' the tough guy snarled.

'What do I want?' Angel pretended to think about it. 'Love - family - a place on the planet to call my own. But you know what?'

'What?'

'I'm never gonna have those things.' He slammed Edwards against the car, 'and neither will you unless the next few minutes go exactly the way I want them too. Where are the pictures of David Nabbit?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Angel slammed him again 'You only get one lie, I probably should've mentioned that earlier.'

Lenny laughed. 'look pal, you must not be from around here, but trust me when I say you do not want to see my bad side.'

...

Unnoticed by the two of them, Gunn and his gang appeared behind them, watching from behind some railings.

...

'You show me your bad side,' Angel said, vamping out, 'and I'll show you mine.' He grabbed Lenny by the lapels. 'And I am from around here, in fact I'm moving in. If you don't get me what I want, then I will dog you for the rest of your very short life. Are we clear?' He slammed Lenny one last time and the man nodded. 'See you tomorrow,' Angel said and Lenny got in his car and drove off in a hurry.

...

Behind the railings one of the gang spoke: 'Vampire's moving in here?'

'Yeah,' said Gunn, 'but he aint gonna be stayin' too long.'

* * *

The elevator wheezed into life and arrived at the office, Angel slammed the gate open. 'You two are still here?' he asked his two employees.

'Just wanted to make things went OK with Edwards,' Doyle told him, 'you find him OK?'

Angel nodded. 'He's bringing me the pictures tomorrow.'

'Well that case wound up remarkably quickly,' said Cordelia, getting up off the sofa. 'Easy cash for easy work!' She picked up her handbag and turned to Doyle, 'walk me home?'. He nodded and got up, as well. 'Night, man,' he said as he left the office.

'Night guys.'

* * *

Doyle, Cordelia and Wesley had all gone back up to David Nabbit's house the following morning to tell him the good news. He was very impressed with the quick service, and pulled out his cheque book. 'This should cover all your expenses to date,' he told them. 'I really appreciate what you guys did at the party.' The three of them exchanged confused looks. 'What we did at the party?' Wesley asked

'Did we do something?' Doyle wanted to know.

'It was a lovely party,' Cordelia said to their rich client.

He smiled back at her. 'You talked to me! We had some good times. It meant a lot.'

Doyle shook his head again, like he had the previous night, _tragic._

'Yes … but, you were _paying_ us to be there.' Wesley reminded him.

'Oh I do that all the time. But you guys actually hung with me. It was - it was special.'

Man! Doyle wouldn't trade places with this guy even for double his fortune. And if Doyle thought his own life was better than someone else's, then that someone else was a real lost cause, because the Irishman was under no illusions about just how pathetic his own existence could be at times.

Nabbit finished writing out the cheque and handed it over to Wesley, but Cordelia grabbed it mid air. 'I take care of this side of business,' she told him. She looked at the amount written down and wordlessly held it out for Doyle and Wesley to see.

'Dear...sweet …'

'I think there must have been some mistake,' Wesley said.

'Oh, Wesley, I'm sure Mr. Nabbit knows how to write out a cheque!' Cordelia chided him.

'No it's no mistake,' Nabbit said, 'I believe in rewarding good work.'

'It really is an amazingly generous amount,' the watcher said. 'But we haven't actually finished the job yet, Mr. Nabbit.'

'It's only money,' the billionaire said. 'I've got sack fulls of it. And it's - it's David, OK? You guys call me David.'

'I like David,' said Cordelia, 'It's a good strong, masculine name .. it feels good in your mouth.' Her two colleagues stared at her and she blushed.

'Well David, thanks, man', Doyle said, still shaking his head at Cordelia's words.

'Yes, we'll earn every cent of this, don't you worry.' Wesley told him. They turned to leave. 'Bye.'

...

' _It feels good in your mouth?'_ Wesley hissed once they were out of earshot.

'I was flustered, OK? The money made me flustered!'

'Lets just try and keep the double entendres to a minimum next time we bag ourselves a billionaire client, yeah?' Doyle suggested.

'I was flustered!' she protested again, as the men laughed at her all the way back to the car.

* * *

Lenny was sitting in the hood of his car, holding a brown manilla envelope. Angel appeared out of nowhere. 'You're a sneaky bastard, aren't you?' Lenny said to him.

'You brought the photographs?'

The tough guy held up the envelope, 'yeah, I brought them. I brought something else as well.'

A grey skinned demon stepped out from the shadows…

* * *

'So what other names feel good in y'mouth?' Doyle wanted to know; as the three of them hung around the apartment, waiting for Angel to return

'Jeez guys, are we ever gonna let this go?'

'Nope.'

'Not likely,' agreed the watcher.

'Someone had to say something nice to him!' she protested. 'He's the saddest case I've ever seen!'

'I think maybe you were just a little too nice, yeah, darlin'? He might do you for sexual harassment in the workplace.'

She threw a cushion at him. It didn't stop either of the men from laughing.

* * *

The demon was strong, at least as strong as Angel. It threw Angel backwards, towards Lenny's car, and Angel took the opportunity to crash into Lenny, causing him to drop the envelope. The vampire picked it up and pocketed the photographs before swinging himself around a lamppost and kicking the demon in the face. It staggered backwards and Angel pressed home his advantage, repeatedly kicking him in the face and stomach until the demon was backed against the wall. Once it was cornered, the vampire broke the demon's neck and let the body drop to the ground. He turned to face Lenny, and the tough guy ran away.

* * *

'Well how does Wesley feel?' They still hadn't dropped it. 'Is Wes, a strong and masculine name?'

' _Please!'_ Cordelia retorted 'David _is_ a masculine name! Wesley on the other hand is about the wettest name I can think of…' she narrowed her eyes at Doyle …'apart from _Francis.'_

'Hey!' He threw the cushion back at her, she threw it straight back at him and picked up another one to throw. The two cushions smashed into each other mid air and bounced off each other, they both dove to grab hold of one and started beating each other with them, both squirming around, trying to get in a blow without being hit themselves.

'Children, please!' Wesley exclaimed, as the throw pillows gave out and a cascade of feathers rained down on them.

* * *

Angel watched the man run off down the road. Out of nowhere, a crossbow bolt impaled him in the shoulder. 'Get him!' Gunn shouted. The street gang's truck roared into life and chased the vampire down the alley. Angel fled from the oncoming vehicle, pulling trash cans off the sidewalk and tossing them into the road, causing the truck to swerve, messing up the gunners aim. The vampire zigzagged as he ran, ensuring that he never moved where they expected him to, ensuring that they couldn't aim a crossbow bolt at where he would move to next.

A warehouse had a partially open pull up door, and Angel rolled underneath and picked himself up, leaning against the door to rest for a moment. The truck ploughed straight through the door and Angel was nearly impaled on it's mounted stakes. He ran onward. He stumbled against some boxes and fell onto a plate on the floor. This triggered a pallet coated in wooden spikes to drop from the ceiling and Angel realised he had been chased right into the street gang's lair. This was where they wanted him.

He was jumped from behind by a guy holding a stake. Angel tossed him over his head and disarmed him. The kid froze waiting for the killing blow and was surprised when it never came, the vampire ran onward. He ran through a tripwire that set off a whole load of crossbows, firing across the corridor, but he was able to dodge all the bolts and keep running. As he ran into a larger room he was surrounded by the gang on all sides. He pushed a few of them away and then grabbed a girl, using her as a shield.

'Alonna!' The leader was not happy to see her taken and he told his gang to hold their fire.

'What are you people playing at?' Angel demanded.

'We aint playin',' the leader told him.

'You're going to get yourselves killed.'

'We're gonna get you killed first.'

Angel tossed the girl, Alonna, to one side. Her brother tracked the movement with his crossbow, but his finger must have slipped because it went off and the bolt headed straight for the girl. Angel stuck his hand out, using his vampire speed, and intercepted the bolt. 'Ow!' he said when it impaled his hand. 'You know I'm getting the impression you don't like me very much.' He told them. He pulled the bolt free from his hand and winced as he did. 'But maybe I'm just overreacting.'

'You gonna pretend that you're different to the rest of them?' the boy with the crossbow wanted to know.

'Yeah. And then I'll pretend I just saved her life. I didn't come here to kill you, we're working on the same side.'

'It don't matter why you're here, or what you are. You show your face round here again and you're dust.' He signalled for his gang to leave and they melted away. Angel sank down where he had stood, wincing with pain.


	47. War Zone: Part Three

Angel stumbled back into his apartment to find a nearly hysterical Doyle and Cordelia and a room full of feathers. They'd sobered up pretty quickly when they saw him injured, however, and Cordy hurried to get her first aid kit out. He sat there in the middle of the room, shirt off, pectorals gleaming in the light, as she bandaged him up. As ever, she was unimpressed with the rippling ab show she was being treated to, which was no end of comfort to the far less muscular Doyle.

The half demon and Wesley were looking at the pictures Angel had taken from Lenny Edwards. Each photo elicited a moment of silence, raised eyebrows and then a whistle or a swear word from Doyle.

'No wonder Nabbit, was so desperate to get these back,' Wesley flipped to the next one. 'Good Lord!'

'Sweet baby Jesus! What is that?'

'It's upside down,' Angel told them. Wesley turned the photo and the two men nodded in understanding. 'Right oh!'

'That makes more sense.'

Cordelia finished taping the bandage in place .'How does it feel?' she asked.

'I can't imagine it's pleasant,' Wesley informed her. She just looked at him. 'Oh, right, sorry.'

'You should rest, you look…'

'Like I've been stabbed and beaten?'

'You looked wrecked, man,' Doyle agreed.

'You wanna see the cheque again?' Cordy offered.

'I wanna find those kids again,' Angel said. 'I don't think they had homes. They're probably living together somewhere. They haven't just started doing this; they're organised. Some of them couldn't be more than 16.'

'God!' exclaimed Cordelia. 'Twenty minutes down the road from billionaires we've got kids going to war.'

'We'll find em,' Doyle said.

'Uhuh, if they're fighting vampires then there must be a nest close by. Probably within a 10 block radius of where I saw them. It'll probably have sewer access. Doyle you think you can pull something up on the net - see which buildings are likely candidates?'

Doyle screwed up his face, 'how d'y' go about doin' that?'

Angel looked confused. 'Willow did this type of stuff all the time, bringing up blueprints and electrical schematics. Isn't that what the internet is for?'

'Ha!' Cordelia snorted 'not for guys like Doyle! I don't think we can really compare Mr. 'I picked up computer skills downloading pictures of naked women' with Willow Rosenberg, super hacker.'

Doyle looked at Cordelia in surprised bemusement. 'You didn't really think that's how I picked up computer skills, did'ya?' she looked back at him, equally surprised. 'I used to be a grade school teacher,' he reminded her, 'I used computers at work.'

'Oh.'

'I'm also a dab hand at fixing a jammed photocopier,' he said, 'and that's not 'cause I enjoy xeroxing parts of my anatomy! I still have some leftover skills from my pre demon life...but I don't know if I can find what you're looking for, man.' He turned back to Angel to say the last bit.

'Try'

'OK.'

'If we haven't got anything by tomorrow, we'll do it the old fashioned way.' The vampire stood up and the movement caused him to gasp in pain. 'Can I see the cheque again?' he asked, pitifully.

* * *

The lead vampire held court in their nest, berating his cronies. 'Street trash - that's all they are!' he told them. 'We've hunted on this ground for over 70 years, time was this was a good neighbourhood - decent, hardworking folks lived here - and now...It's run down and inhabited by street trash.

It isn't their fault,' he said. 'It's ours. We let this happen, we grew lazy.' He turned to one of the other vampires, the one who had killed Bobby and then fled from Gunn's sword. 'You ever got lured into an ambush before, Ty?' the leader asked. Ty shook his head and the lead vampire turned back to the others. 'Ty's nearly as old as I am. He's careful, he knows the score. But he let himself get tricked by street trash. They did this to him and that means they could do it to any one of us. Because the street trash…' he pulled out a stake 'aren't afraid to go for the heart.' He staked Ty and the vampire crumbled into dust, a look of surprised betrayal registering on his face before he disintegrated into nothingness. 'So that's what we're gonna do,' the vamp continued, as if nothing had happened. 'No more picking them off one by one. Go for the heart. Because if we take the heart, then the rest will fall.'

* * *

Alonna and Gunn were arguing: about Angel. 'Look G you know there's something different about him,' she said to her brother. 'He knows stuff we don't and he didn't have to do what he did.' She meant saving her life, stopping Gunn from accidentally killing his own sister.

'The guy bugs me,' her brother said.

'Everyone bugs you.'

'You bug me most of all.'

'I'm trying to keep you alive,' she told him.

'It just don't play,' Gunn said. 'If he aint lookin' to kill then why he come around here? Why the hell would anyone come here?'

* * *

Angel and Doyle crept into the building that Doyle had successfully identified as the vampire's lair. He might not be Willow, but finding information was surprisingly easy if you weren't afraid to hack. And Doyle was rather pleased to discover that he had quite a talent for breaking into secure sites. They come up through the sewer access, as it was still the daytime. They hoped to catch the vampires sleeping. Angel should be able to take out the majority of a nest of vampires if he caught them off guard, as long as he had one of his associates to mop up a few of the outliers. Much as Doyle would have enjoyed riding around in the convertible in the sunshine, with Cordelia, as she searched for the street kids; he also wanted to see if his hacking skills had come up good, so he had volunteered to be Angel's back up on this occasion.

He was pleased to see that there were signs of unlife, he had been right: this was definitely the lair. But it was empty … even though it was the middle of the day, and this felt very wrong. The stillness was broken when a vampire dropped down from the ceiling in front of him and punched him hard in the face. Doyle hit the floor, but before he even felt the impact, Angel had grabbed the vampire and slammed him against the wall. 'Where are they?' he demanded.

* * *

The siblings argument had moved on. 'You want somethin' to eat?' Alonna asked her brother.

'I'm not hungry.'

'When was the last time you had somethin'?'

'Oh. seems like it was just yesterday.'

She tutted. 'You gotta eat G. We got some real good stuff in, some of the boys went to the market, we can have a proper dinner tonight.'

But Gunn had stopped listening, he had tensed up and was honing all his senses, straining to hear something. She noticed that his attention had wavered. 'What is it?'

'Get everybody out. Now!'

'What is it?'

'Just do it! Everybody out into the sunlight. Now!'

Alonna ran and started rounding up any street kid she could find, herding them out of the warehouse towards the safety of the sun's rays. Gunn picked up his sword, a smoke grenade came crashing through the window and started to emit its burning fog, clouding the vision of the kids left inside.

'Are they comin' in?' asked one of Gunn's deputies. 'Don't they have to be invited?' The pair of them looked around, struggling to see through the smoke. 'I don't see anythin', where are they?'

And then Gunn realised his mistake 'Alonna!' he rushed up the stairs and out of the door, crashing into the sunlight just in time to see his sister being grabbed by a man, in heavy layers of clothing and wearing a gasmask. She was dragged inside a van, screaming for help. The doors to the van shut and the vehicle roared away. Gunn chased it down, leaping onto the back and holding on. He was able to peer through one of the back windows and he saw his sister being feasted on by a group of vampires. One of the vamps looked up and saw him, he punched through the window knocking Gunn to the ground. Gunn rolled over as he hit the road, and righted himself to only watch, in desperation, as the van squealed round a corner and disappeared from view.

* * *

Cordelia and Wesley cruised the street gang's neighbourhood in the Angelmobile. She was a little annoyed that Doyle had opted to play sidekick to Angel and not gumshoe with her, so she was stuck with stupid, old Wesley. As a result she had decided to take a break from reality.

'You know there's nothing like riding in a convertible with the top down,' she said. 'It really lets you see the sun and the sand.'

Wesley scanned the area with his binoculars, taking in the overflowing garbage cans and the boarded up windows, covered in graffiti. Cordelia took a deep, long sniff 'mmm, smell that salty sea air!.'

'That's not salt,' Wesley said to her.

'I don't think it's technically air either,' she replied, 'but reality is what we make of it. You see what you wanna see and I'll see what I wanna see.'

'A man exiting an alley, pushing a shopping cart.'

'No no no!' she corrected, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. 'I see a very tan life guard type with very big, bulging …' If Doyle wasn't going to be there with her she could revert back to her more shallow preferences in his absence.

'No, over there,' Wesley interrupted her, pointing. 'Now, these children must have access to electricity which means they might have tapped one of the power lines and be running it illegally. If I can spot the tap I can find their hideout. You go and talk to this gentleman to see if he's seen anyone fitting the description of our young vampire killers and I'll check the power line for taps.'

'What? Why can't you speak to him and I'll check for taps?'

'Because you can imagine him as I tanned, buff, young stud whilst I am stuck with the naked truth.'

'Shut up, Wesley,' she said, 'no one likes a smart ass rogue demon hunter.' He smirked at her and left to go and examine the power lines. She grumbled a little as she got out of the car and approached the man. Doyle wouldn't have made her go and chat up a stinky, possibly crazy, old homeless guy all by herself.

* * *

Angel and Doyle arrived at the kids' hideout. The vampire grabbed the kid on lookout duty. 'Invite me in,' he said.

...

Inside, the gang were gearing up for a fight. The two men entered the room, pushing the lookout kid ahead of them. 'You're going to get a lot of people killed,' Angel said. Gunn glared at the guard duty kid. 'I suck, OK?' the guard admitted.

'You don't wanna be here,' Gunn said to Angel.

'They expect you to go after them, it's what they want. We can help.'

'I don't need no help from some middle class, white guy - who's _dead_.' Gunn retorted, he glanced at Doyle, 'or his undead, pimp friend.'

'Hey!'

'Why can't we do this together?' Angel wanted to know. Gunn pulled a cord and the blinds at the window shot upwards, sunlight flooded the room. Angel shied away. 'You figure it out,' Gunn told him. As the vampire was caught off guard, a couple of gang members shoved him sideways and he fell into an old meat locker.

Doyle stood in the light, not exploding into dust, not even flinching. He made as if to help Angel.

'Hey this one aint dead!' one of the gang said, 'he aint a vampire!'

'He runs with a vampire,' Gunn said, 'lock him up.'

The Irishman found himself being manhandled towards the meat locker by two or three of the kids. 'Hey, hang on now fellas! Take it easy, yeah? There's been some kind o' misunderstanding. Maybe we could just …'

He was thrown into the meat locker with Angel and the door was slammed shut '...talk about it?'

Angel banged against the door but it didn't budge. Doyle didn't even bother trying, he just sat down in the corner and wrapped his brown leather coat as tight around him as he could, to guard against the cold.

Outside of the door, the gang were ready. 'Let's go' Gunn said.

* * *

The truck pulled up outside of the vampire's nest. 'Wait here,' Gunn told his crew 'If I'm not back in ten minutes come inside and kill anything that moves.'

...

He went inside alone and found her waiting for him. 'Alonna!' he cried in relief when he saw her stood there. He walked towards her, smiling. 'You're not…' he noticed that there were no bite marks on her neck '...dead.'

'Well…' she looked at him. He shook his head, disbelieving. 'No!'.

'Shh!' she said to him. 'Don't be sad! I'm not.'

'They killed you.' He felt his heart break inside his chest.

'Do I look dead to you? I'm stronger, faster and better than ever ...wanna see?'

She put her hand against his chest and shoved. He flew backwards through the air.

* * *

Angel was still thumping the door.

'It's not gonna work, man.'

'We have to get out of here!'

'Relax'

'We'll run out of oxygen soon enough ...now that isn't a problem for me...'

'Oh right...maybe try punchin' a little harder, yeah?'

The vampire shook his head and switched to punching the wall next to the door. His knuckles were bleeding but he managed to break down part of the brickwork and create a hole. Light and air broke through.

'Sweet mother oxygen! Y'did it! But now we just have to get out… yeah?'

* * *

Gunn had got back to his feet and was facing his sister, tears shining in his eyes. 'We were just on the wrong track,' she told him, 'right fight, wrong team. All that rage and pain we got? We get to keep it. Only on this side there aint no grief or guilt. Just the hunt and the kill. I mean ...how often did we go out in the sunshine anyway?'

'I was never gonna let anything happen to you,' Gunn told her, as if saying it out loud could make it true. 'I was gonna protect you. You were my sister!'

'I still am.'

Gunn shook his head.

'So why don't you kill me? Ah - cos you got the guilt. Well I got the guilt cure. C'mon big brother let me do this for you. We can keep our family together, forever.' She leaned in to bite his neck and the leader of the street gang just stood there, trembling with grief.


	48. War Zone: Part Four

Angel's bruised and bleeding hand was stuck through the hole in the wall he had made, straining to reach the door handle. But it was just too far away.

'I can't reach it,' he told his half demon friend, 'I can't get my arm through far enough.'

'Well then make the hole bigger!'

Angel sighed and pulled his hand out of the hole and waved it at his friend. 'My knuckles are killing me. You make the hole bigger.'

'No way man, you know I haven't got that kind o' strength. You gotta keep tryin'.'

'You know, it isn't even me who needs to escape here? The cold? Doesn't bother me. The lack of air? No problem. It's you that's in trouble and I don't notice you doing a whole lot to help.' His knuckles really hurt, it was making him irritable and childish. 'Why don't you try and reach for a while?'

'Because I've not got big, long, monkey arms, like you!' It was the cold that was making Doyle irritable and childish.

'Dammit Doyle!' he slammed against the door with all his strength, in frustration, and then stuck his arm back through the hole in the wall His already battered knuckles grazed along the rough bricks and he gasped in pain. 'You know this always happens with you!' the vampire shouted. 'You're always in trouble and I always have to rescue you.'

'Look, bud, it was you got that pushed into the meat locker first, yeah? I'm only in here because I was here helpin' you.'

'Yeah but if it was _you_ that got pushed in here first, damn right I'd have got you back out again before the door shut. I always have to save your ass!.'

'Hey! I've saved your ass too before now, man.'

'Oh yeah, when?'

'What about that time Spike kidnapped you, huh? Who was it that got you out of his torture chamber?'

'Oz's van,' the vampire said. 'And anyway, that was nearly a year ago. I have saved you _so_ many times since then.'

'Oh yeah, like when?'

'Like at McNamara's gladiator ring… and when you got shot… and when you got kidnapped by that empath demon… and when Your ex wife's new boyfriend tried to eat your brains.'

'Yeah well... you're the big strappin' hero aren't y'? it's your job to save people.'

'And you're meant to be my sidekick, not my damsel in distress.'

The two men glared at each other, Angel still had his arm stuck through the wall and had to twist his body to glower at his friend. As he twisted back, he finally felt his fingers brush against the door handle … if he could just reach it … just grab it...just one more inch…

The door swung open from the outside. Cordelia and Wesley peered in at the two men, scowling at each other inside the meat locker. 'Were you guys trying to open this?' Cordelia asked.

'No, I just love old meat lockers,' Angel told them.

Cordelia grinned at Wes. 'Did you hear them, Wesley? They were having their first fight. This is like a photo album moment or something.' The watcher and the young woman laughed, making the two demons feel very foolish, but worse was yet to come.

'Why didn't you just call us on the cell?' Wesley wanted to know. Doyle and Angel just stared.

'You forgot you had it, didn't you?' Cordy accused, still smirking.

'Those things barely ever work,' Angel retorted, 'and besides it was a lot easier just to…' he mimed punching through the wall. His three employees all stared at him.

'Oh yeah,' Cordelia said. 'It sounded a lot easier.'

'Look I'm the boss here and I say when we use the cell phones and when we don't' He was still irritable, and now he was embarrassed on top of that. But he realised he didn't have time for either of those emotions. 'People are gonna die - I need to go,' and he strode out out of the hideout without a backwards glance. 'You're welcome!' Cordelia shouted after him, then she turned to the other occupant of the meat locker: 'OK Damsel in distress, now me and Wes are done playing the big, strapping heroes and rescuing you, we'd better get you home, little lady.'

Doyle groaned, 'are you ever gone forget the conversation you overheard? Or do I have to live with this forever? 'Cause if it's a forever deal, tell me now and I'll emigrate and change my name. '

'That depends….' she pretended to think about it, 'are you willing to move past my flustered faux pas of yesterday?'

'I'll never mention it again if you won't,' Doyle agreed. They shook hands and walked out of the room.

'You know there's really no reason why I should have to forget either thing,' Wesley told them, following on. 'You've got nothing on me.'

'Shut up, Wesley,' Doyle said as they reached the exit. 'We're all movin' on here.'

* * *

'You've always looked out for me,' Alonna whispered to her brother, 'always protected me. But now it's my turn to look out for you.'

'How?'

'Look at you,' she said, 'you're cold and you're hungry, scared and hidin'. You call that living?' Gunn looked down and shook his head, ever so slightly 'I can make it all go away, make everything better. Don't you just want all this to stop?'

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, but Alonna saw and she smiled. 'Let me do this for you. Let me fix it.' She morphed into her vampire face and Gunn started back from her in horror. He'd known what she was, but to see the demon on his little sister's face was a level of heartbreak he had simply not been ready for. She put her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear: 'say goodbye to everything you ever knew.'

_'Goodbye.'_

He forced a stake through her chest and, in the moments before she was dust, she stepped back to look at him, her face Alonna's once more. And then she crumbled into nothingness. The dust settled and Gunn saw Angel stood there, a little way away, watching. 'Let's get out of here,' the vampire said.

...

But the ten minutes were up and Gunn's gang moved into the nest. They pulled up short when they saw Angel standing there, 'how'd he get out?'

'C'mon' Gunn said to them 'we're leaving.'

The vampires from the lair stepped out of shadows and surrounded them all. 'Oh, I don't think so,' their leader said. He stepped up to Gunn. 'She was so sweet -your sister. Real smooth going down, if you know what I mean. You wanted a war… well you got one.'

'Here's the deal,' Angel announced loudly, looking around the room: 'you can go.'

The lead vampire turned to stare at him, incredulously, 'what?'

' _If_ you go now - and I don't ever see you again - then you get to live.'

'Are you high?'

'L.A is my territory,' Angel said. 'You want to stay out of it. These kids, this town...all off limits for the rest of your eternal lives.'

'Who the hell are you?' the leader demanded. 'Do you even know who you're talking to?'

'The name's Angelus,' he staked the leader, 'and I wasn't actually talking to you.' He looked at the other vampires. 'So do we have a truce? Or do you want to die?'

'Truce?' One of the gang was not happy with what he was hearing, not happy with this vampire calling the shots. 'G, we can take them!'

'Not without some of you dying, as well,' Angel told him.

'G? You come all this way. You not gonna kill any vamps?'

'I already did,' Gunn said, heavily, 'lets go.'

...

The vampires and the street kids all moved out of the lair. Their war was over, but no one had won.

* * *

Cordelia, Doyle and Wesley had left the bleak surroundings of Gunn's neighbourhood and found themselves somewhere bright and busy to go. They bought coffees from a street vendor and ambled over to a bench to enjoy drinking them in the sunshine. Wesley looked at the mound of whipped cream on top of his Styrofoam cup in distaste. 'I ordered a coffee,' he said, 'I know it must it be in here somewhere.' Doyle gave him a sympathetic look. Drinks were much simpler their side of the Atlantic, and the American way of doing things did take some getting used to.

Cordelia was unusually quiet, and eventually the men came to terms with the amount of cream in their drinks and were able to notice her peculiar mood. 'Are you OK?' Wesley asked her, 'You haven't said two words since we left the office.'

Doyle put his arm around her and looked at her inquiringly, 'what are y' thinking about?'

'Oh… just those kids, I guess.'

Doyle rubbed her arm comfortingly, 'homelessness can be pretty awful,' he agreed. She looked at him. 'I mean … I know from when I volunteered at the shelter, not from personal experience.'

'Oh, right.'

'It was bleak,' Wesley nodded.

'And I thought my first apartment was bad!'

'Ah, now darlin, that apartment really was awful. I know plenty of homeless guys who'd turn that one down.'

She hit him on the chest, 'I'm being serious!'

'Ouch! So am I! At least the streets aren't roach infested, yeah?'

'I think those kids would accept a few roaches for electricity and running water, don't you?' she asked.

'The water was all brown and spurty, it wasn't hot. And if I recall it was more than a _few_ cockroaches.' He pulled a face, screwing up his mouth as he thought about Cordelia's first apartment. 'The worst of it was your housekeepin' o'course,' he told her, 'all that underwear and dirty cereal bowls on the floor. Those homeless kids really put you to shame on that front, all those clever gadgets they built and what not'

'It does give everything a sense of perspective, doesn't it?' Wesley agreed.

'Yes it does,' Cordelia declared. 'And I think, perspectively speaking, I want to prostitute myself to David Nabbit, the billionaire.'

Wesley began to choke on his drink. Doyle slopped his coffee down his front, it hit skin up top, and then shirt lower down. It then soaked through to his skin, again. 'Ow! Dear... sweet...'

'It wouldn't have to mean the end of us,' Cordelia told him, using a napkin to help mop him up. 'I mean, if we ever get started … you could be the pool boy!'

'wow, Cordelia. Thanks.'

'Cordelia!' Wesley remonstrated.

She tried to explain. 'What I mean is: he's a nice guy that could use companionship - I could use a little security - so when I say 'prostitute' what I mean is…'

'Prostitute,' the men said in unison.

'For example,' she agreed.

'Do you think you really could?' Wesley wanted to know.

'O'course she couldn't. Cordelia wants more than money ...don't you?'

'David is a nice guy,' she said to them, 'and looks aren't everything.' She gave Doyle a pointed look, he looked reproachfully back at her. '...or chemistry,' she continued 'personality ...now that's important...of course David doesn't really have one… and his nerdiness makes me twitch, he reminds me of the time everyone's worst nightmares came true and I got dragged off to chess club. _My hair was a mess!_ Of course Xander ended up naked in front of a full classroom of people, so it could have been worse.'

Hearing that last bit, Doyle quietly thanked heaven that he hadn't been in a freezer section of a grocery store in Sunnydale that particular week, but Cordelia was still talking. 'So if I don't wanna spend time with David, and I don't wanna sleep with him, or talk to him, or look at him… OK...fine I'll stay here...I'm OK here ...poor...and...alone.'

'You got me, Princess.'

'Well... maybe one day.'

'So you'll stick around with us a bit longer after all?' Wesley asked. They stood up to leave.

'I guess,' she sighed.

'Would you really pick me over a billionaire?' Doyle wanted to know.

'I guess,' she sighed.

He looked amazed, she looked annoyed at his amazement. 'What?'

'I love you.'

She smiled at him, 'I know.' She began to walk off. Doyle stood still, looking confused. 'Wait…' he hurried after her, 'did you _mean_ to just quote Star Wars?'

'Duh! _yes!_ '

'Well now I love you even more.'

'If you can quote Star Wars, then maybe you could get along just fine with Nabbit after all,' Wesley told her.

'Shut up, Wesley,' Doyle and Cordelia both said in unison, winding their arms around each other as they walked off back to the office.

* * *

It was nighttime and Gunn was stood up on a rooftop, looking out at L.A as it twinkled below him in the darkness. This city had it all: billionaire moguls and millionaire starlets, people living the glamorous Hollywood life that the rest of the world dreamed of, rich people, ordinary people and working stiffs. Not one of them would cry for the loss of a street kid, who had nothing and no one in this world but her brother. Not one of them knew about the underworld of the homeless, lost in the night, and the things that preyed on them. A whole city spread out before him, and not one of its two million citizens knew or cared what he had lost, or how empty his world was without her. He stood there alone and grieved for Alonna, until a noise made him turn. It was the vampire, the one that kept trying to help. Maybe one person knew, or cared.

'What are you doing here?'

'Skulking -professionally,' Angel came to stand beside the bereaved young man.

'Look- I'm glad for what you did, OK? But I don't need no talking too. I don't need no Guardian Angel. It aint gonna change the way it is down there, man. They're gonna keep comin' and we're gonna keep fighting.'

'I know.'

Gunn turned to look at him 'That's it. You aint gonna talk at me? Be all daddy figure?'

'What am I going to tell you that you don't already know?'

Gunn turned back to stare, once again, at cityscape. 'I killed her,' he said quietly.

'No. You didn't.'

'Near enough...She was the reason, man...for…' His little sister, all he had in the world, the one person who mattered ...he was always going to protect her. But he couldn't even do that. And now he needed a new reason to keep going, to keep fighting, to keep living. 'Why you do it, man?' he asked the vampire, 'why you out here?'

'What else am I going to do?' Angel turned to leave, 'I'll see you around.'

'I don't need any help,' Gunn called after him, still looking out over the shining city.

'I might.'

After a moment, the street fighter turned to look at the vampire. But Angel was already gone.


	49. Blind Date: Part One

The street vendor had his wares spread out across the sidewalk. He wound up two toy soldiers and made them crawl across the floor, demonstrating how cool they were to the two kids that were looking. He could smell a sale. 'Only two left,' he told them, 'they're real collectors items.' He had loads more in his pack, and they were just plastic tat from Taiwan, this was his standard salesman patter that he reeled out for the gullible. And no one was more gullible than a couple of kids. Sure enough, the two little boys pooled their money and handed it over. A tapping noise made the vendor look up, and he saw a lady, wearing dark glasses and carrying a cane, making her way towards him. 'Just wait a minute, Miss,' he said as she reached the blanket he had spread out on the floor. The blind woman stopped and the street vendor cleared his merchandise up out of her path. 'There you go,' he told her. She walked on, tapping her cane as she went.

* * *

The vampire seemed to fly towards him, and Angel raised his stake ready to dust. But before he was able to, another vamp jumped him from behind. The two demons beset Angel, working together to attack him. Punches were thrown, kicks were landed, more than once one of the fighters was thrown to the floor and had to roll away to gain the space to stand back up. Eventually, Angel was able to swing one of the vampires around, using the force and momentum of his actions to knock the second vampire to the ground. One on one, at last, he staked the vampire and, as it turned to dust, he grabbed his other assailant from off the floor. Using a chain that was hanging from the ceiling, Angel hung the vampire in the air and then swung him towards a piece of wood that was protruding from a stack of pallets. The vampire hit the wood, chest first, and exploded. Angel turned to leave.

A groaning noise made him stop and look around. A middle aged man stumbled into the space. He was holding his stomach, as if he had sustained a serious injury, and he staggered against the wall before sliding down to the floor. He went still. Angel rushed over to check on him, but the man was dead. A very slight sound caught his attention, thanks to his enhanced vampire hearing, and he straightened up and turned around.

A woman in dark glasses, a blind woman, grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall. It was a blow that would have left a human man unconscious, but Angel was able to right himself and move in, to strike back. He threw a punch. The blind woman dodged it. He tried again. And again. Angel moved as fast as his vampire speed would allow, but he was never able to land a blow. Meanwhile the blind woman was doling out a serious beating with her cane. Her movements were controlled and coordinated. Angel had studied a whole range of eastern martial art disciplines, but this woman was more advanced than him; she benefited not only from flawless technique, but also from the seeming ability to anticipate his every move and avoid it accordingly. He was taking a serious beating. From a blind woman.

Eventually he got in one lucky hit and managed to knock her dark glasses off her face. Her eyes, beneath, were milky white; there were no irises or pupils visible. Definitely blind, then. She hit back at him, annoyed that he had got so close; and he flew across the room, landing on his back and sliding a little along the floor. He crashed into the wall. By the time he had got back to his feet, the blind woman had gone.

* * *

Angel was brooding down in the darkness of his apartment. Upstairs, his three colleagues had taken advantage of his absence to open the blinds for a short while. Sunlight was pouring in on them as they worked. Wesley was on the couch reading a book. Cordelia was behind her desk and Doyle was sat next to her, shuffling his pack of cards. The watcher snapped his book shut. 'Demons with one eye, demons with twelve eyes. Some with double vision. But no blind demons. Perhaps Angel has discovered a new species?'

'What?' snorted Cordelia, 'Helen Kellerus Homicidalus?'

Doyle laughed, 'nice.' She smiled at him, pleased to have made him laugh.

'Of course...' said Wesley, standing up. '...There is a possibility that she isn't a demon at all.'

'You think?' Cordelia frowned.

'Hang on! Are y' sayin' that maybe our big, brooding, vampire hero just took a serious beating from a regular, little blind lady?'

'No wonder he's downstairs, sulking.'

Doyle laughed again.

'Well I don't think she can be classed as just a 'regular, little blind lady',' Wesley corrected them. 'But perhaps she has learned to hone her senses around her disability. Angel did say it was as if she anticipated his every move. We know that human senses do become sharper and compensate when one is lost. Perhaps this woman has found a way to exacerbate that.'

'Handy skill for a fight,' commented Cordelia. 'When I went blind all I did was sit at home and cry for two days.'

'An unusual skill,' Wesley agreed, 'but not necessarily demonic.'

'Hang on, can we go back to the bit where Cordy used to be _blind_?'

'Why? Do you think you might stand a better chance with me if I couldn't see those hideous shirts you claim are clothes?'

'Hey! No. I wanna hear this…'

'I think we have rather more pressing matters at hand, don't you?' asked Wesley, disapprovingly, 'like finding out the identity of Angel's assailant.'

'We'll talk later,' Doyle mouthed at Cordy.

She grinned, and then went back to business: 'A blind woman that can beat up a vampire...someone like that should stand out in a crowd - for an assassin I mean.'

'Decidedly.'

'Maybe even have a record?' She glanced at Doyle and he nodded at her. She flexed her fingers and then typed 'blind woman murder' into the computer search engine. There was an immediate hit.

'One assumes she has done this sort of thing before,' Wesley was still talking, 'based on Angel's description of her…'

'Vanessa Brewer,' Cordelia told him.

'You've found her?'

'Our first stop doesn't always have to be the world of the weird. Some human people can be just ...awful.'

Doyle leaned over to squint at the screen, still shuffling his cards 'Hair: Brown. Eyes: blind. Height; 5' 6. Weight:122. Arrests: 1 misdemeanour, 0 convictions. 2 felony, 0 convictions.' he read. 'Either she's one unlucky blind lady, always in the wrong place at the wrong time, or else she has one hell of a lawyer.'

'I'm gonna say it's the latter,' Cordelia told him. She tapped the screen, 'first arrested in '93, found fleeing the scene of a homicide. But no charges were brought. Then again in '95, that never went to trial, and finally last year...double homicide for which she is currently on trial.'

Doyle whistled.

'So she was out on bail when Angel met her,' Wesley surmised.

'Yeah, but this is the real whammy. Remember what Doyle said about her lawyer?' Both men nodded, she span the monitor around so they could both see it: 'look who it is that's defending her.'

* * *

Vanessa was in court, her milky eyes seemed to follow the lawyers around the room as they talked. She wasn't wearing her dark glasses, she had lost them in the fight last night. Her defence attorney, Lindsey MacDonald, was addressing the judge. 'Your honour, we request the court's compassion in this obviously mishandled affair. The District Attorney's attempt to link my client, Miss Brewer, with this brutal crime would be laughable if it weren't so sad.' He knew he was winning the court around. No one would ever believe that a helpless, blind woman could commit atrocities like those she was accused of, this seemed a clear cut case of bullying a person with a tragic disability. 'To think that my client, with her particular disability, could physically commit such a murder…' Lindsey didn't notice his old vampire enemy walk into the back of the courtroom. '...is beyond the realm of believability.'

Angel, still standing at the door, threw something at Vanessa. Her hand shot out and she snatched the dark object out of midair. The whole court erupted into shocked noise and the judge had to bang his gavel several times to restore order to the room. Lindsey turned around and saw Angel free himself from the grip of the bailiffs and run out. Behind him, on the defendant's bench, Vanessa slipped her dark glasses back onto her face.

* * *

'It was just after I made the cheer leading squad,' Cordelia said to Doyle. True to his word, as soon as the mystery seemed resolved, he had pinned Cordy down and demanded an explanation about her time as a blind person. Doyle was the type of man that would always want to know everything about a woman he was in love with, and would find every little detail fascinating, but he had hit the jackpot with Cordelia.

Her history was much more fascinating than most, having grown up on the hellmouth. And every remnant of her past was a reminder to him that she had been in this good fight for far longer than he had, and that she had been _so_ young when she had started out. She was still _so_ young. But she'd seen so much. And yet not one of her horrific experiences seemed to phase her in the least. She really was the strongest and most amazing woman he had ever encountered.

'Amy, you know, I told you about Amy before, Amy the rat?' He nodded. 'Well before she was a rat she was a witch, and before _she_ was a witch her _Mom_ was a witch. But a psycho one. She did this whole 'Freaky Friday' body swap thing with Amy so that she could be a cheerleader again. Is there anything sadder than trying to relive your glory days? Anyway, Amy was a total klutz and so, even though she was young again, mommy dearest still wasn't good enough to make the squad. So she started casting spells to get rid of enough cheerleaders that they'd have to use her. She made me blind. In the middle of a driver's ed class. I smashed the car through a hedge and out into the road and then, when I got out, this massive truck was bearing down on me. I could hear it but I couldn't see it.'

'So how did you not .. y'know… die?'

'Buffy.'

'Oh. Of course.'

'Yeah. she put everything right in the end. We never did find out what happened to Amy's Mom though. Must have been weird for Amy, her Mom missing, but all those pictures and that creepy statue of her up around school…'

'The statue was creepy?'

'Yeah… it was like … it's eyes would follow you ...wherever you went.' Cordelia shuddered, 'no wonder Amy turned into a rat. That was one messed up childhood.'

'Whereas the rest of you were just so well adjusted, growing up around monsters and what not?'

'Duh! We were totally fine. I mean not the kids who became fish monsters … and the ones that got possessed by hyenas needed serious therapy after they ate Principal Flutie…'

' _What_?'

'But everyone who was strong enough turned out OK.'

* * *

The elevator shuddered up into the office and Angel slammed the gate as he got out. 'She has preternatural senses. And her reflexes are … we need to figure this out,' he told them as he entered the office. He seemed in a worse mood than usual.

'Well she can't see, in the sense that we can see,' Wesley said. 'But clearly she _can_ see.'

'I'm confused,' Doyle said, 'she can't see but she _can_ see?'

'In a sense.'

'Have you been drinkin'? 'Cause it's not fair if you didn't invite me.'

Wesley gave him a pointed look. 'What I mean is that the human eye is only capable of seeing a small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. But if Miss Brewer had somehow found a way to see outside that range…'

'She'd be superman,' Cordelia interrupted. 'What's the dif how she sees? She can spend some serious time seeing the bars of her cell. Why are we still talking about this?'

'Because Wolfram and Hart are representing her pro bono,' Angel replied, 'which means she's still working for them.'

Doyle whistled: 'you think she's _their_ assassin?'

Angel nodded. 'And so it behoves them to get her off. I want to know what's going on in that courtroom, but I can't just sit there with Lindsey MacDonald in the room. Cordelia?' He turned to his secretary. 'I want you to go down there and sit in on the end of the trial.' She got up to leave. 'But I don't want anyone knowing that you're there.'

She clapped her hands together, 'disguise time!' she said, in a delighted sounding voice. She disappeared down into Angel's apartment and when she came back up, a few minutes later, she was wearing the blonde wig and sunglasses she used whenever she went undercover. 'I'll call you as soon as I know something,' she promised.

The three men watched her go. 'Man, she just loves going incognito,' Doyle said.

* * *

Vanessa Brewer stood in the foyer of Wolfram and Hart with some of the more senior associates. Lindsey watched from a distance, he wasn't too eager to get too close to his client outside of the courtroom, there was just something about her that creeped him out. Lee Mercer appeared beside him. 'I can't believe you got her off,' he said. 'And now the big bosses are smiling on you … you're the man of the hour.'

Their direct manager, Holland Manners, turned from the group and waved Lindsey over. Vanessa seemed to be looking at him, as well, but that was impossible... Lindsey sighed, he didn't want to go near Vanessa. 'I think she likes you,' Lee smirked before he sidled off back to work.

Lindsey came up to the group and Holland put his arm around him. 'Bill, Chuck, you remember Lindsey MacDonald, our point man on Miss Brewer's case.'

'Of course,' the two senior men shook his hands. 'He did some excellent work,' Holland told them, 'we're very pleased with the results.'

Vanessa caught hold of Lindsey's hand, it was all he could do not to shudder.

'Thank you, Lindsey.'

'You're Welcome.'

'It's nice to see you again.'

He paused for the tiniest fraction of a moment: 'you too.'

She turned to leave and the group dispersed. As Lindsey headed back to his own office Holland called him back: 'Could I have a moment?'

...

The two of them went into Holland's plush office. It was twice the size of Lindsey's and had the most spectacular view over the cityscape.

'Does she unnerve you?' Holland asked.

'A little.'

'I know how you feel ...two minutes alone with her and I feel like my spine's been fused. How are you doing, though? You seem a little stressed.'

'Well, I've been putting in a lot of hours.'

'You've had a rough year.'

'I've made some bad choices,' Lindsey admitted.

'I'll say … that business with Russell Winters ... and then the Rogue slayer… it's been tough. But that was a good success in court. You're beginning to pull out of your fallow patch. That's good. I'm fond of you Lindsey, I'd like to see you moving up here.'

'I'm glad to hear that, Sir.'

'You need to find your place, Lindsey. Find where you belong. You're young, you seem restless, but I firmly believe you have a bright future here at Wolfram and Hart. You just need to want it. Now… to business. I think she had an unhappy childhood.'

'Sir?' Lindsey was confused.

'Vanessa Brewer. I think she was abused growing up. I think the details of which are shocking and specific. And I think you had better think those up sooner rather than later.'

He began to understand. 'Is she going to do something else, sir? Something that will require a strong defence?'

Holland nodded his assent. 'She is too valuable a tool for some of our more lucrative clients. We need to find creative ways to prevent incarceration - if she is caught again.'

'What's she going to do?'

'There are some children arriving.'

He didn't mean to, but Lindsey inhaled sharply. 'Some children?'

'Too much for you?' Holland turned to look at him, a searching expression on his face. He was fond of Lindsey, but if the young attorney really was going to go far at Wolfram and Hart then he needed to toughen up, abandon those foolish, youthful ideals of right and wrong. This game was about power and to win it you had to be ruthless, as amoral as a hurricane. 'Murder', 'deceit', 'betrayal' these words should carry no judgement, be as neutral a word as 'water'. There was only power and those willing to seek it. Morality was for the weak and only the strong survived. The question was: would Lindsey decide to be one of the strong?

'It might be too shocking for a jury,' Lindsey answered his boss, diplomatically, trying to cover for the moment when his humanity had betrayed his professionalism.

'Which is why I think a terrible childhood drove her too it. Not guilty by reason of insanity... If she's caught.'

'Who - who are these children?'

Holland patted his shoulder. 'It's best we only know what we need to,' he told him as he steered him out of the office. 'I'm sure you'll get right on it.'

...

Back out in the corridor, Lindsey stood still; turning this new information over in his mind.


	50. Blind Date: Part Two

Once the verdict was in, Cordelia left the courtroom and rang Angel on the cell. She could tell he wasn't happy. It was a beautiful day and she could think of better things to do then head back to a dark office and face an irate vampire boss. She shrugged to herself and then ambled off to go get a coffee. She would go back, of course, she just wasn't going to hurry herself.

* * *

Once Angel had hung up the call, he flung his phone against the wall in frustration. Doyle and Wesley tentatively approached his office door to find out what was wrong. 'They acquitted her,' he told them. 'Hung jury.'

'I'm sorry,' Wesley said.

'How am I supposed to fight evil if they won't even put it behind bars?'

'Look, bud, I know this is frustrating. But Vanessa Brewer's human … this isn't really our line.'

'She murdered a man right in front of me.'

'I know.'

'The human rules are supposed to apply to her … human courts. If they won't do their job then that leaves us.'

'What are y' sayin', man? Y' can't just _kill_ her.'

Angel slammed his fist into the wall, 'well I want to do something. There's nothing I can do to fix this. I saw her kill a man and I can't even testify to that in court.'

'Not daytime court,' Doyle agreed.

'It's their courtroom not mine. Their rules. Their game.'

'Wolfram and Hart,' Wesley said.

Angel nodded. 'I have no place in their world. How am I supposed to do battle if I can't even get into the ring?'

Wesley and Doyle glanced at each other, unsure of what to say. 'Angel, you do have a place,' the watcher told him. 'Our battle will be fought elsewhere.'

'As long as I'm gettin' these mind numbing head crackin' visions direct from the Powers That Be, we're never gonna be short of a battle to fight. But we can't do everything. We just do our bit, make a difference, y'know?'

'It's still their world, though.' Angel replied, looking at his two employees with an expression of heavy resignation, as if this realisation had defeated him. 'They've rigged the system. It's structured for power - not truth… and it works. It works because there is no guilt … no torment … no consequences. They'll always win until something changes. But nothing _ever_ changes.'

Lindsey walked into the vampire's office. 'I need your help,' he said. The three whitehats looked at him, completely nonplussed. 'I want out.'

* * *

The four men were sequestered in Angel's office, the door was shut and Lindsey was talking. 'You probably think this is some kind of joke.'

'No,' Angel told him. 'I can smell the fear coming off you in waves, you're terrified. This isn't a joke. I do think it's a trick, though.'

'Hey I don't wanna be here anymore than you want to see me. But this time, I got no choice.'

'There's always a choice,' the vampire informed him. 'You sold your soul for a fifth floor office and a company car. What's different now?'

His dismissive attitude angered the little lawyer. Here he was, giving up everything to do what was right; and the vampire, the bastard who'd murdered half of Europe back in the day, had the audacity to sermonise to _him_ about the choices people made. He wasn't standing for that, he'd made choices, sure, and now he was making another. He was a product of circumstance, same as the vampire. The former scourge of continents wasn't going to lecture him about right and wrong! 'You think you got me all figured out, don't you?' he said, heatedly. You know everything about me.'

'Everything I need to know.'

The sanctimonious prick! 'What was your Father?' Lindsey demanded 'He was a merchant, right? Linen and silk? Did pretty well for himself? Had a couple of servants until you killed them.'

'Just one' ...pretty Anna.

'Well our files aren't 100%. But I guess it's fair to say you've never seen anything like real poverty. I'm talking dirt poor … no shoes … no toilet. Six of us kids in a room and come flu season it was down to four. I was seven when they took the house ...And my daddy is being nice you know? Joking with the bastards whilst he signs the deed. Yeah so we got a choice … you either get stepped on or you get to stepping… and I swore to myself that I was not gonna be the guy standing there with a stupid grin on my face whilst …'

'I grew up poor,' Doyle interrupted. Lindsey trailed off from his diatribe and the three men turned to look at the half demon.

'What? Y' think you're the only kid that ever knew poverty? Y'think that the stars smile down on an unmarried single mother and her demon kid in 1970s Ireland? She had to run away from her family so they didn't know she was pregnant and then it was just her all alone in the big city ... til I came along. We couldn't rely on charity, that came from the Church and meant the Magdalene laundry and forced adoption. So we got by. We didn't always eat, but we got by. Funny thing is… I never felt the need to join evil incorporated and justify my choices by bangin' on about how hard done by I was. I became a teacher...I worked for a homeless shelter...I used what I'd been through to help people, not to screw 'em. So y' wanna change? Fine. But you can't do that without owning everythin' that you did wrong up to this point, you can't make excuses for what you let yourself become ...I know that...so does Angel.'

Lindsey didn't have anything to say to that. He'd excused a lot of bad things by telling himself this was the only way, that he needed to do this. His difficult childhood, his dead siblings, were how he justified everything he did. He either did this, or lived the life his father had. He knew he wasn't the only one that convinced themselves that they had no choice but to do what needs must for the Senior Partners: Lilah was using her ample pay packet to keep her Alzheimer's suffering mother in the best possible care home. They did what they had to to make sure they and theirs survived. And now someone from a similar background was pointing out there was a third way. It cut to the very heart of the image he had created of himself, and left him with no comeback. He just stood there, eyeballing Doyle as the half demon eyeballed him back. One path, two directions; they each represented the choices not made by the other man.

'Perhaps you could tell us why you are here,' Wesley interjected when the silence threatened to become overwhelming. Lindsey shook his head, coming back to himself. 'I've found out about a job. The blind woman. Vanessa Brewer, your friend from court…'

'Who you got off,' Angel reminded him.

'There's a new contract … she's gonna kill some kids.' Doyle and Wesley both inhaled sharply when they heard that. 'I've worked some pretty hairy stuff,' Lindsey continued, 'but this…'

'What do you know?' Angel wanted to know.

'Almost nothing. The kids are coming from overseas. The job's in a couple of days.'

'We'll need to know more,' the vampire said.

'There's some files, probably in the vault.'

'Then you need to go and get them.'

'I'm not going back there!' Lindsey protested.

'You know I'm not sensing a whole lot of resolve.' Angel told him.

'Do you know what that place is? Other companies have drug testing. Wolfram and Hart has mind readers. If I go back there... I'm a dead man…'

Doyle folded his arms and looked unsympathetically at the lawyer, Wesley seemed equally unimpressed with the threat.

'That seems like an acceptable risk,' Angel said. 'You're panicking right now. You can't believe how bad you let things get. That's not change. You have to make a decision to change and it's something you do by yourself. Most people never do.'

'If I get myself killed will that prove to you that I've changed?'

'It'll be a start.'

The door to the office opened, Cordelia was finally back from court; half caf, skinny, non fat latte in hand. 'Hey guys, what are you all doing shut up in here?' she spotted Lindsey standing amongst them. 'What the heck is he doing here?'

* * *

The five of them had adjourned to the larger, outer office to plan the break in. Lindsey was filling them in on all the information he had. 'The vault's at sub level two. Hall's outside the boiler room.'

'Is there sewer access?' Angel needed to know.

'You'd have to burn your way in.'

'Wait! Can we even do that?' Cordelia protested.

'I can,' Doyle answered in the affirmative.

She looked at him. 'Do I even wanna know …?'

'Nope.'

'OK then. Why is Angel going anyway? I though born again boy was gonna do this.'

'It's a two man job,' the vampire replied. 'How do I get into the vault?'

'With my pass. I'll need it to get inside the building, they're getting pretty strict about security. But I can leave it downstairs for you. Gets you straight into the vault.'

Cordelia interrupted once more 'Again! ...I have to ask …'

'It's guarded by a demon,' rhe lawyer told her, 'there's no way I can take it.'

'What type of demon?' Angel asked.

'Pregotthian, I think.'

'I'll get you a battle profile .. weaknesses and such.' Wesley told his boss

'I'll do what I can with the security monitors, try to keep you undetected. But you'll have to move fast because the moment - oh damn it!' Lindsey stopped short as his own plan crashed down around his ears.

'What?' Wesley and Doyle asked together.

'Vampire detectors,' the lawyer said, simply. 'They have shamans. They can sense it as soon as a vampire crosses the threshold.'

Angel thought for a moment. 'That won't be a problem,' he said.

'Well then,' said Cordelia, 'it seems pretty simple, apart from the 'you'll definitely get caught' factor.'

'The righteous shall walk a thorny path.' Lindsey told her. The four members of team Angel just looked at him.

* * *

That night, Angel returned to the rundown neighbourhood that he had worked a case in the previous week. He found the young street fighter, Gunn, outside his hideout. The young man was stood on top of his truck, behind the mounted crossbow, which he was pointing at a mattress, getting in some target practice. The vampire appeared beside him, silently. 'You know you gonna get yourself killed if you go round sneakin' up on a brother like that,' Gunn told him. 'I'm packin', you know what I'm sayin'?'

'I need your help.' Angel said, by way of greeting.

The gang leader stopped what he was doing and turned to face his unlikely vampire ally. 'What you need?'

Angel told him his plan and Gunn nodded along. When the vampire was done, he, Gunn, turned back to his crossbow, angling up the shot. 'Yeah I can get one. But why would I want to?' he said.

'In the interest of justice - and maybe doing the right thing?'

'Not really interested in some rich guy's heartbreak.' He made ready to fire.

'You're low,' Angel said. Gunn looked at him and Angel nodded towards the mattress. 'Just my opinion,' he said. Gunn raised the angle of the mounted crossbow a little and pulled the trigger. The bolt stuck into the mattress at heart height.

'Give me one good reason,' the street fighter said.

'It'll be extremely dangerous.'

Gunn smiled and nodded 'OK.'

* * *

Back at the office, Cordelia was packing up all the things that Angel and Doyle would need for their heist. 'Overalls…' she said placing them in a bag, 'magnetic clamps, I won't even ask! ...blowtorch!' She snorted in disbelief. 'You know I'm really not comfortable with you doing all this,' she told her half demon friend.

'Don't worry, Cordy, I know what I'm doing.'

'Yeah… why is that?'

'I told y', y' don't wanna know.'

'You really were the little youthful offender back in your depressed demon days weren't you? Don't think I've forgotten that you can drive a getaway car!'

'I got a lot to make up for.'

She snorted again, and then picked up the next item on the list. 'OK, I've got two watches here. I'm going to synchronise them exactly.' She sat on the couch and fiddled with the knob at the side of each clock face. She watched them ticking round in unison 'OK, we need to check it.' She threw one watch at Doyle, where he was sitting behind the desk. 'We're both gonna raise our hands when the second hand gets to half past, clear?'

'Clear.'

They waited as the hand ticked round and then at the exact same moment raised their hands. 'Good,' She said. 'But you might wanna check that they're still in synch before you hand one of them to Angel's new friend. We don't want this whole thing falling down around our ears because of a simple case of bad timing.'

'I will do, Princess.'

'You will be careful,' she said to him, a warning tone in her voice.

'O'course I will. Y' don't have to worry. I won't even be going into the building. I'm strictly the breaking guy, not the entering guy.'

'I just don't want you to get caught ...and killed … or arrested.'

'I won't. Trust me.'

'I trust you. I trust Angel. I guess I even trust his new friend. The person I don't trust is that little lawyer weasel. I mean, d'ya really think he's on the level?'

'I think he is for now. Hearing about that contract on those kids really got him where he lives.'

'And it's as simple as that?' Cordelia asked, taking the watch back off Doyle and putting both of them inside the holdall. She zipped it shut. 'One bad contract and poof! He grows a conscience? Can people really change that much?'

Doyle pushed his chair back so he could see her better, and frowned. 'You don't think people can change?'

'I guess, but this is a bit of a road to Damascus moment, isn't it? A bit sudden. The thing is with Paul the apostle, he didn't really change as a person he just changed the direction he was persecuting in. he was still a bigot and a zealot. _Have you read those letters?_ This doesn't make Lindsey a good guy, and it doesn't make him trustworthy.'

'Uhuh … can I just point out how impressed I am with your theological knowledge, darlin'?'

'What? I can't have layers?'

'You just never struck me as being the big with the book learnin' type. That's more Wesley's thing, yeah?'

'Oh please! That's because I have _some_ experience of covering these things up! I actually did really well on my SATS and got accepted into some great schools. I couldn't go of course because of the whole IRS thing…' She looked sad for a moment, thinking of the life that could have been. Doyle smiled at her sympathetically. 'But just think, darlin', if you'd gone to school we would never have met!'

'Oh gee! There's my silver lining,' she said sarcastically, but she was smiling too.

'You wouldn't be starrin' in a series of national commercials with your face up on billboards.'

'That's true.'

Doyle shuffled a bit in his seat. 'But you do think people can change?' he asked her, 'I mean … you do believe I've changed, don'tcha?'

'No.'

He looked at her, hurt.

'I mean, I don't think you needed to change,' she told him. 'You're a good guy and you always were. You forgot that for a while, but you never changed who you were at heart, you've just got ...back on track. You're still the same person you always were. Just with added demony goodness.'

'Thanks.'

'No problem.'

Wesley walked into the office from downstairs, carrying a book. 'I believe I've found this Preggothian demon,' he told the two of them. 'It shouldn't present much of a challenge for Angel, but there is something that I need you to get.' He showed the book to Doyle and Cordy and explained what was needed. The two of them left the office to go to Korea Town, to get the final component necessary for the heist.


	51. Blind Date: Part Three

Lindsey walked into the foyer of Wolfram and Hart and clipped on his security badge. He waved at the security guys and then headed for the elevator.

* * *

Down in the sewer, deep beneath the law firm, Doyle lit his blowtorch and began to cut a circle in the ceiling above him. Angel waited beside him, impatiently. The half demon had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, it had got stronger the closer they had got to the building. It wasn't nerves. He didn't know what it was, he'd never felt this way before.

* * *

Lindsey stepped out of the elevator. 'Entering sub level 3. Priority clearance required.' An automated voice informed him. The hallway was deserted and he cautiously headed down it, aiming for the point where Angel should be waiting, just beneath his feet. A door opened, suddenly, and the small lawyer collided with Lilah Morgan. 'I'm sorry,' she said, 'I'm always in too much of a hurry.'

'I think we all are.' He made as if to enter the room she had just left. 'You were doing some research?' he asked her.

'Only when I want it done right.'

'Tell me about it. I don't mind making myself look an idiot, but I hate it when some clerk does.'

'I was under the impression that you never touch a book anymore,' she said.

'Little secret between you and me,' Lindsey offered, she leaned forward. 'If the amoebas find out that you're willing to read, they lose all respect for you.'

She nodded thoughtfully and he closed the door to the room in her face. She looked at it for a moment and then turned on her heel and walked off. Lindsey listened for the sound of her stilettos clacking against the floor. Once he was convinced she was gone, he reopened the door and stepped back out into the hallway. He took off his security pass and stuck it to the bottom of a fire extinguisher, ready for Angel.

* * *

Doyle had finished cutting the circle. He switched the blowtorch off and took off his goggles. He used his hand to push against the circle he had cut, testing it. He nodded to himself, it must have passed muster. He glanced at the synchronised watch that Cordelia had given him… there wasn't long left. He took the magnetic clamps out of the holdall and attached them to the cut circle, pulling it free from the rest of the roof. As this new doorway into Wolfram and Hart opened, he felt the strange feeling in his stomach intensify and overwhelm him. He felt like he desperately needed to go inside, but he couldn't for the life of him work out why.

* * *

Lindsey had made it back to the safety of the Lobby. He headed over to the security desk.

* * *

Doyle checked his watch again. He glanced at the vampire stood beside him. Angel was back in his suit, dressed up as lawyer once again. 'It's nearly time, bud,' the half demon told him.

* * *

'Hello Mr. MacDonald,' the security guard said, greeting Lindsey as he approached.

'Hey Howard, you got a minute?' He glanced behind the security desk and saw a red robed figure huddled there. He ignored it, for now. 'I checked the 7500 video surveillance system that you suggested. Do I really need cellular override and direct digital links to the office? It seems like overkill.'

'Better safe than sorry,' Howard told him.

Lindsey checked his watch and then looked at the monitors behind Howard. He saw a young, tall, black man in a bandanna enter the building. This must be the decoy.

...

'Woohoo!' Gunn shouted, as he stepped into the lobby and looked around. 'My God! They told me it was true but I didn't believe them. Damn! Here it is! Evil white folks really do have a Mecca!' Security guards came out from behind the desk and began to approach him. 'Easy now, fellas , don't get riled,' Gunn told them.

...

Lindsey watched all this happening on the monitors.

* * *

Down in the sewers, Angel and Doyle waited, having to trust to the synchronised watches to give them a clue as to what was going on. Doyle really wanted to get inside the building. But he wasn't supposed to. He'd promised Cordy, he was the breaking guy not the entering guy.

* * *

'Ow!' Gunn shouted accusatorily at the security guards. 'Did you step on my foot?' The nearest guard was still at least eight feet away. Gunn was having a great time. 'Are you assaulting me in this haven of justice?'

* * *

Doyle checked the watch '...nearly.'

* * *

'Somebody get me a lawyer!' Gunn demanded, 'because my civil rights have been seriously violated.' He held up his hands. 'Oh I get it, I get it. You can cater to the demon, cater to the dead man. But what about the black man?'

He checked the synchronised watch he'd been given. 'Well I'd love to stay and chat folks but - Yo fellas!' a couple of his street gang came through the door, bundling something body sized with them, in a large sack.

* * *

Doyle checked his watch. 'Now, man. Go now.' Angel pulled himself up through the hole and into the corridor of sub level 3.

* * *

The red robed shaman behind the security desk lifted its head and shrieked. Howard picked up the phone, 'we have a vampire on the premises, repeat we have a vampire on the premises.'

* * *

Gunn took out a knife and sliced the sack open. He and his gang walked out of the building, smiling, just as a vampire fell out of the bundle and onto the floor.

* * *

Angel walked down the corridor and picked up the security pass from under the fire extinguisher. Up in the monitor room, Lindsey watched him and then switched the camera to another view. Angel was undetected.

* * *

Down in the sewer, left all alone, the feeling became overwhelming. Doyle swore to himself, and then pulled himself up through the hole. 'Wait, man! Wait for me, I'm comin' with y'.' He hurried after Angel, who didn't have time to argue, and they used the pass to enter through the security door that led to the vault. As they stepped through, they heard a growling noise behind them: the Preggothian demon. Angel punched it and then threw it against the wall. He grabbed something out of his suit pocket and when the demon ran at him again he opened his hand and blew some powder right into its face. The Preggothian swayed on the spot and then tumbled to the ground, unconscious. 'Thanks Wesley,' Angel said.

'Y'know, if lawyer boy had just done some research, he couldda done that. We wouldn't have to be here.'

'You _don't_ have to be here,' Angel pointed out.

The half demon didn't reply. No, according to the plan he didn't have to be there … but that wasn't what his gut was telling him.

They looked around the dark vault, there were all sorts of artefacts and weapons mounted on the wall alongside filing cabinets that held the more dangerous paperwork. Angel started to look through the drawers. Doyle gazed around the room.

* * *

Lindsey stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor, headed towards his office. He met Lee Mercer in the corridor. 'What's going on?' Lee asked him. 'Did I hear right? A Vampire in the lobby?' Lindsey laughed, 'never a dull moment,' he said.

* * *

Angel had found the files he was looking for. They were computer files held on C.D. He was putting them inside his briefcase. Doyle was staring into the corner of the room. He knew, now, why he had felt the need to come. 'Let's go,' the vampire said turning to leave. As he did so, he spotted a metal tube, covered in Tibetan symbols, in one of the display cases. He felt an incomprehensible draw towards it. He glanced at the open door, and the unconscious demon, and started to walk towards the tube. 'Angel, man,' Doyle's voice stopped him in his tracks. Doyle was still stood in the centre of the room, gazing in the opposite direction to the metal tube, but no less entranced. 'Look at this.'

Angel tore himself away from the tube that was calling to him and went to look at what was fixating his friend.

It was the beacon.

The Scourge's beacon, from all those months ago, which they had tried to find using all of Doyle's contacts. Here it was, in the Wolfram and Hart vault. Doyle had never even seen it before but he knew immediately exactly what it was. He _felt_ it. He _recognised_ it, as if he were recognising a part of himself.

Angel looked at it, but then looked back at the little metal tube, with its strange symbols. It was really calling him. He looked back at the beacon, remembering what the oracles had said.

'We gotta destroy it,' Doyle told him. 'We can't leave a thing like this here, with Wolfram and Hart. they're worse than The Scourge.'

Angel looked back at the metal tube, nothing had ever spoken to him this way before, but Doyle was right. He had his instructions from The Oracles, at the end of last year, he knew what he had to do. He swung his briefcase, the only weapon he had, as hard as he could into the glass of the beacon, expecting it to shatter. Nothing happened. He swung again. Nothing. 'I can't break it,' he said.

Doyle shook his head. He remembered now, Lilah laughing: _The caped crusader? No, Mr. Doyle, not Angel. You._ He hadn't realised at the time what the curio she had mentioned had been. Had disbelieved her when she had told him that his destiny had been rewritten by a higher power that was, for some unknown reason, on his side. He wondered if he had felt the pull towards the beacon back then, in her office, or if he'd been too far away for it to affect him. If he had felt it, he was too beaten up at the time to recognise it. But now he knew. It was a shining moment of pure clarity, something he'd never experienced before.

'It has to be me,' he said.

'What?'

'It has to be me that destroys the beacon. It was always supposed to be me.'

'What?'

_Two things that are not supposed to exist but that are inextricably linked? Alone you are valuable but together you are priceless._

He had been supposed to destroy the beacon that night with the Lister demons, all those months ago. And from what Lilah said, the effort would have killed him, he wasn't supposed to have survived past that night on the ship. But the beacon had survived and so had he, and the universe had gone into a state of flux. Destiny was rewritten. Now it was time to put it right. He stepped up to the giant glass weapon and reached out to touch the cables that rested uselessly on top of it. As his hand made contact, the sense of rightness intensified. This was what he had been born to do.

He held his hand out for Angel's briefcase and the vampire handed it over, a little disbelievingly. If he hadn't had the strength to smash the glass he couldn't see how his little half demon friend would have. Doyle morphed into his demon spikes and swung the briefcase with all his might, right through the glass of the beacon and into the centre, smashing the filament that would light the bulb. Glass exploded outwards and the two demons raised their hands to protect their faces from the flying, transparent shards, but they still felt it cut into their skin as it flew past and shattered onto the floor.

As the briefcase made contact with the beacon and demolished it, an alarm sounded, warning the security of Wolfram and Hart that the vault was breached and that their treasures were jeopardised. The two men ran towards the door, a grate came crashing down to block the entrance to the vault and they barely had time to both roll underneath it. Angel cast one last, anguished, look back at the metal tube, but there was no way back; so he ran on out into the corridor, feeling like he was leaving a part of himself behind.

* * *

Up on the fifth floor Lindsey's cell rang.

'We're done,' Angel informed him 'get out.'

Angel and Doyle dropped down into the sewers and made their way back to safety. Lindsey headed down to the lobby and the front door.

He was stopped in his path. Out in the halls, security guards were sweeping people up, herding them towards Holland Manners' office. It didn't matter which direction Lindsey took, there was no escape. He bumped into Lilah as he was forced along with the crowd. 'Can you believe this?' she asked. 'It's a sweep.' She grabbed his wrist and checked his watch. 'Oh, I'll never make my lunch,' she sighed. Lee found them. 'What's going on?' he asked.

'Mind readers,' Lilah told him.

* * *

The attorneys were all lined up in Holland's office. 'Shouldn't we have been memo-ed or something?' Lee wanted to know.

'That's why they call them random readings,' Lilah told him. She flicked open her cell and spoke into it, 'Yeah it's Lilah. Looks like I won't be able to make my one o'clock.'

The two mind readers walked slowly down the line, looking into the face of each lawyer as they did. Lilah merely looked bored, a bit put out. She had nothing to fear. They reached Lindsey and looked at him for a long time, he struggled to keep his face impassive and his mind blank. After what seemed like forever, the two mind readers continued down the line.

When they were done, they went to one side to speak with Holland Manners. Lindsey strained his ears as hard as he could, but he could make nothing out. Holland nodded and then turned to face his attorneys. 'Well I have to say this is a shame. A real shame. Whenever I hear of disloyalty it hurts me personally.' He signalled a security guard to come over, the guard took out his gun and went to stand behind the line of lawyers. 'But this sort of thing,' Holland said, standing in front of Lindsey, facing him down, 'has to be dealt with and dealt with quickly.' Lindsey tried to remain impassive, once more.

'I'm sorry - Lee.' Holland turned to face Lee Mercer.

'What? No!'

'You've been in secret talks with Klein and Gabler.'

'They approached me!'

'You were planning on taking some clients with you when you went.'

'You don't understand!' pleaded Lee, panicking. 'They read me wrong! I just wanted Klein and Gabler to think…'

The security guard pulled the trigger, putting a bullet into the back of Lee Mercer's neck, execution style. Blood spattered out across the wall and onto Lindsey's face. The body of Lee Mercer slumped to the floor. Lilah and Lindsey flinched and then controlled themselves, showing no other outward sign that a man had been executed right next to them.

'It's never pleasant terminating an employee contract,' Holland said. 'That's all.' As everyone turned to leave, Holland called Lindsey back. 'Can I have a minute?' Reluctantly, Lindsey stayed.

* * *

Angel and Doyle exited the sewers into Angel's apartment and went up to the office in the elevator. Cordelia threw up her hands in horror when she saw the cuts on their hands and faces where the flying glass had shredded them. 'What the hell happened to you?' she demanded, pulling Doyle over to the couch and making him sit down.

'I got hit by some exploding glass.'

'Of course you did.' She got out the first aid kit and started brushing her fingers across his cuts, looking for bits of embedded glass 'Ow!' he said. But she just tutted and got out the tweezers and started teasing the slithers of glass out from under his skin. He kept wincing and gasping in pain. 'Don't be such a baby!' she told him as she worked, methodically.

'Where's Lindsey?' Angel asked.

'Not here,' Wesley replied, 'is he not with you?' Angel and Doyle shook their heads. 'That can't be good,' Cordelia said.

'Something must have happened,' Wesley surmised.

'Are you going back for him?' Cordelia wanted to know.

'If he made it out then he'll be here. If he didn't then there's no reason to go back for him. We have work to do.' The vampire put the briefcase down onto Cordelia's desk and opened it, 'these are the files.'

'Well, which one is it?' Cordelia asked, glancing over as she finished off cleaning up Doyle.

'I don't know, we'll have to go through them until we find the right one.'

'You mean _Doyle_ will have to go through them!' she said, sounding annoyed at the cavalier attitude that her boss was taking towards dumping a whole boatload of work on his best friend.

All patched up, Doyle slid off the sofa and picked up the first of the computer files, 'no problem,' he said, sliding it into the disk drive. He sat down and waited as the file loaded.

'You! Come here!' Cordelia commanded Angel. He meekly went and sat down on the sofa, replacing Doyle, and his secretary set about cleaning him up as well. 'You guys, do you ever think you could go just one week without needing some first aid? This is ridiculous. I swear I'll be more qualified than a doctor before I'm even old enough to legally drink.'

'Aw, man!' Doyle exclaimed.

'What is it?' Wesley went to stand behind the desk so he could see what the half demon was looking at, 'oh dear.'

'What's up?' Cordelia abandoned Angel to go and see what the problem was, Angel got up and followed her.

'It's encrypted,' Wesley told them.

'How on earth is Doyle meant to sort this?' Cordelia wanted to know.

'He'll just have to do it.'

'Great solution, Captain Broody Pants. But this is way out of his league!'

'Doyle?' Angel looked at his friend, but the Irishman just shrugged.

'I don't know what to do,' he admitted. He knew he should feel worse about this, lives were on the line, after all. But it wasn't really getting to him, he felt strangely free, light even, and he had done so ever since he'd left Wolfram and Hart. It was as if a weight, that he hadn't even realised he was carrying, had been lifted from his shoulders…

* * *

Lee's body was dragged out by the security guard, leaving a dark smear of blood on the carpet. Holland Manners looked at it and sighed 'you know, that doesn't come out.' He sat down behind his desk and looked at Lindsey: 'are you afraid?'

Lindsey nodded.

'Well that's understandable,' his boss said, 'you've betrayed the firm, allied yourself with our enemy, stolen important documents from our vault and tried to sabotage an extremely important case. Did I miss anything out?'

Lindsey shook his head. 'No, sir.'

'Did you actually believe I wouldn't find out?' Lindsey had nothing to say. Holland continued: 'This is a delicate moment, Lindsey, If I nod to Phil, behind you, he'll put a bullet in your brain. Is that what I should do?' Lindsey said nothing.

'You're having a crisis, son, a crisis of faith. You've reached a point where you think you want to leave us. You need to really look inside yourself and examine what it is that you want.'

'I don't want the blood of those children on my hands, sir,' Lindsey told him.

Holland sighed and steepled his index fingers, resting them on the bridge of his nose. 'You have what it takes to go all the way here, son; drive, ambition, excellence. But you really need to know whether you belong here … and until you do, we have a problem. Now, do I nod to Phil? No. Because I believe in you, Lindsey, I know that you'll come around and be a true asset to our side. You just don't know that yet. So ...you're gonna take a few days off and just think about things … mull things over. Decide where you fit in the grand scheme of things.'

'I can go?' Lindsey asked, disbelieving.

'You can go,' Holland assented. 'Look deep inside yourself. I know you'll find your place.'


	52. Blind Date: Part Four

Cordelia was sat next to Doyle at the computer desk, he was in front of the monitor, she was on the phone. 'OK, Willow, He's back to the desktop, what does he do now?'

'You know it would be quicker if you just let me talk to her,' Doyle interjected.

'No.' She listened for a moment, 'open file,' she said. Doyle clicked. 'OK, he's done that: back to list.' Doyle scrolled down until he found what he was looking for.

Angel sat slumped in the chair across the desk from them, he was massaging the bridge of his nose. He seemed very tense. Wesley entered the office from outside and set down a cup carrier, which held four coffees. 'Any luck?' He asked.

'She's been on the phone for an hour and forty five minutes,' Angel told him.

'Hey!' Cordelia put her hand over the mouthpiece of the receiver to address the men in the room, 'guess what they've been doing all day?'

'Saving the world?' Wesley hazarded a guess.

'Well, yeah. But they've been breaking encrypted computer files too!'

'What are the chances?' Angel said, sounding less than impressed.

'What do I do next, Cordy?' Doyle wanted to know. Cordelia wasn't listening. 'No. no. It was no one, just Wesley,' she said into the phone. 'Yeah … yeah … uhuh.' Wesley and Angel leaned forward in anticipation. Doyle looked at her expectantly, waiting to follow her next instruction. 'Willow says 'hey!' ' she said to the two Sunnydale men. They slumped back. 'Hey,' they said in unison.

'They say 'hey!'' she told the phone.

'Cordelia!' Doyle tried to remind her that there was a job he was trying to do.

'OK, OK, I'm on it, What's next Willow ...' there was a long pause, 'could you repeat that?'

'Just let me talk to her!' he held his hand out for the phone.

'No!' Cordelia moved away, so the phone was out of his reach. 'Tag file,' she told him, he scanned the screen and found it. 'Left click' she said. He clicked. The computer beeped. 'There it is,' she said, pointing to the screen, 'back door, we're in. Thanks, Will.' She hung up the phone. 'I told you she could do it,' she said to the men. Angel and Wesley came around the back of the desk to have a look at the screen.

'Personnel file: Vanessa Brewer,' Wesley read. 'She wasn't born blind. She lost her sight when she was 21.'

'On purpose,' Cordelia pointed out, tapping the relevant bit, 'she did this to herself.'

'Why'd she do a thing like that?' Doyle wanted to know.

'Er - because she's a psycho!' Cordy replied.

'She spent five years in Pajaur, studying the Nanjin.' Angel said, 'that explains her power.'

'It does?' It still seemed pretty inexplicable to Cordelia.

'The order of Nanjin are cave dwelling monks. They believe that enlightenment is seeing with the heart, not the mind,' the watcher told her.

'Are you saying, that crazy, self mutilating, assassin lady achieved enlightenment?'

'Of a kind. She's more sensitive to her surroundings than even a sighted person.'

'Pretty strong assassin! She sounds unstoppable,' Doyle said.

'No one is unstoppable,' Angel replied. 'What's her current job?'

They scanned the screen together …'There,' Doyle tapped the screen. 'Lindsey was right ...kids, man.' He sighed, this hit the teacher part of him particularly hard.

'Three of them,' the British man read over his shoulder when he trailed off. 'Seers, like Doyle. They were found in different remote locations and brought together for the first time, here.'

'They're blind too,' Cordelia said, 'together they have the power to 'see into the heart of things', so not exactly the same as Doyle ...but Wolfram and Hart have shown an interest in acquiring his visions before. They obviously like to collect people with the sight.'

'Yes…' the watcher mused, 'knowing the future, as well as a link to the powers - a direct link to the other side as it were, would be very useful to a firm like Wolfram and Hart. As these children mature, so will their power.'

'Hey, I wonder if the same will happen to you!' Cordelia nudged Doyle, he gave her a dirty look.

...

Just then, the door opened and Lindsey arrived at the office. 'Sorry I'm late. I hope I didn't worry any of you.'

Cordelia shrugged, 'we just figured you were dead.'

'You got out,' Angel stated, ignoring Cordelia

'Yeah… but only just. It's only a matter of time before they realise which files are missing,' the lawyer told them, 'we have to move fast. When are the children arriving in the country?'

'According to this they arrived here this morning.' Wesley told them, 'they've been taken to a safe house and their mentor will meet them there. They're coming in from the East tonight.'

'The house isn't safe. There's an address. I want you three..' Angel looked at his employees, 'to go and intercept this mentor guy. Me and Lindsey will got to the house. We'll bring the kids to you.'

* * *

The three blind children sat on the floor in their safe house. Their guardian placed a tray of hot chocolate and sandwiches on the coffee table in front of them. They reached out for the cups, smiling. The guardian walked away. But he was stopped at the door by Vanessa's cane. He fell to the floor: dead. Vanessa walked into the room, and made her way towards the children. She stood over them as they drank their hot chocolate.

She raised her cane, making ready to stab the first child. The children just sat there, still, not realising the danger that stood above them. She plunged her cane downwards, and then felt her arm being knocked off its course. She was punched in the face. Angel and Lindsey had arrived.

* * *

The three members of team Angel ran into the arrivals lounge at LAX. They scanned the board. 'You know,' said Cordelia, ''The East' doesn't exactly narrow down where this guy is arriving from.' She pointed to the board, 'look at all these flights, he could be on any one of them.'

'Well… he must be coming off an Asian flight,' Wesley reasoned 'if he's coming from the East.'

'Except … Europe is East of here.' Doyle pointed out. 'Does it mean 'the East' as in the far east - like China, or the geographical East meaning ...Dublin.' He pointed to the flight that was arriving from his own hometown in the next half an hour.

'Or Frankfurt,' Cordelia added, 'Or London, Heathrow, There's even a flight coming in from Newark, New Jersey. Maybe it just means the eastern seaboard. What are we gonna do?'

'Wait by the gate and hope we spot him,' Wesley told her.

Cordelia snorted, 'now there's a fool proof plan!'

* * *

'Get the kids out of here!' Angel shouted at Lindsey. The lawyer moved towards the children but Vanessa Brewer simply threw Angel to the floor and then turned on the other man, punching him in the stomach. Lindsey crumpled. Angel stood up, and the blind assassin turned on him at once, pummelling him with her fist, feet and cane. The vampire could not get a blow in, could not get within striking distance of Vanessa without her striking him first. Lindsey began to crawl towards the children.

* * *

'This isn't working!' Cordelia said as she stood at the gate watching people come through customs in dribs and drabs. 'How are we supposed to spot him?'

'Well I don't know about anyone else, But I'm lookin' for the guy who looks most like Mr. Miyagi, yeah?'

'Good thinking, grasshopper!'

They watched some more people come out of the gate. 'I'm bored,' Cordelia said, 'is anyone else bored?'

Doyle smiled at her and put his arm around her. She leaned into him as they waited.

* * *

Angel was down on the floor again, lying still where he had landed. But rather than pressing home her advantage, Vanessa turned on Lindsey, where he was crawling towards the children, and began to whale on him instead. Angel has just made it to his feet when Lindsey came flying across the room in his direction. He caught the lawyer just before he smashed into the wall. As they disentangled themselves from each other, the blind assassin moved back towards the unprotected children.

* * *

'Maybe it's that guy.' Doyle pointed at an Asian man in a business suit coming through the gate. He was short and had a little grey beard; it was obvious why Doyle had picked him.

'Hmm, he seems more capitalist than mystical,' Wesley said, sizing up the arrival, 'I don't see a mentor to a holy triumvirate turning up in a suit.'

'It's Armani,' Cordelia chimed in.

'I expect he's a banker or something, not a mentor. Didn't a flight just get in from Hong Kong?'

'Well I think he looks the part!'

'I say! This one's more likely!' Wesley pointed to another Asian man coming through the gate, this one was wearing a Hakama with a short kimono over the top.

'No way, he's all show, I'm tellin' y' it's the business suit!'

The two men continued to squabble and, ignoring them, Cordelia turned back to scan the crowd…'uh, guys…' she said, pointing out her find. The men stopped squabbling and looked.

* * *

Angel dove across the room, to get to the children. He landed behind Vanessa and she stabbed backwards with her cane. She hit him full in the chest and he stumbled back. She swung her cane once more, he managed to block it, but he was then thrown against the wall. He slumped down to the floor and stayed still. She was facing in his direction but she was scanning around, like she wasn't sure where he was... Finally, he understood.

* * *

An elderly blind lady was walking out of the gate, tapping her cane in front of her. She had grey hair tied up in a bun, and dark glasses that covered most of her face. She was wearing neither a western business suit or full traditional Japanese dress, but rather something in the middle; a shiny top with a high collar and patterning, that followed the traditional styles of Southeast Asia, with a pair of comfortable black slacks - sensible clothes for a long flight, in fact. She was only short, but she carried herself in such a way that she conveyed a sense of height and authority and, despite her disability, she moved with a confidence that left no one under the illusion that she might require help, or that she was anything but fully independent.

'Oh yeah, that's her, for sure,' Doyle said.

'Almost certainly,' Wesley agreed.

Cordelia smiled a smug smile of satisfaction, and walked towards the old lady.

* * *

Angel waited until Vanessa's back was turned and then he sprang into action; landing beside her and thumping her, in a quick, fluid movement. His blow made contact and she fell to the ground. Angel froze up. She could only see him when he moved, like a reptile's vision. As long as he stayed still she was as blind as any other visually impaired person. She got to her feet and made stabbing and cutting motions with her cane. They were in Angel's general direction, but they never even came close. He used his vampire speed and landed another blow, before freezing up again. He kept to her sides, to try and minimise how much of his movements she would pick up on, and kept repeating the same move; hitting her as fast as his super speed would allow and then going perfectly still. She turned, lost, and jabbed her cane out in front of her, hoping to make a connection. Angel grabbed it and turned it on her. Her cane was driven deep into her body and Vanessa Brewer fell to the floor.

Lindsey had used the time Angel was fighting to get the children. He held all three of them in his arms as he looked at the dead body of the blind assassin lying only a few feet away. He was thankful that these children were spared that sight. 'It's OK,' he told them. 'You're all OK.'

* * *

'Well it's been quite an evenin',' Doyle said to Cordy as he walked her back to her apartment. 'That was a good spot on the mentor, by you.'

'Duh! I always know what to look for.'

'That you do, darlin'. And your friend, Willow, is pretty impressive isn't she? unencrypting those files, long distance, for us.'

Cordelia snorted, and seemed less than pleased with his words. He looked at her, in surprise. 'What's wrong? You're the one that suggested we ring her.'

'Well yeah, we needed her help.'

'Well I've never seen anything like it,' Doyle told her. 'She really is a step beyond, isn't she? I mean I'm pretty good at searching stuff out and I can break into some secure sites but she …'

'Yeah, yeah. I get it, she's super girl, can we move on now please?'

Doyle stopped walking and turned to look at Cordelia. She didn't seem to want to look at him, so he gently caught her hands and made her stop. 'What is it?' he asked.

'I've just had enough of you raving about cute, sweet, amazing Willow. That's all.'

'I'm not ravin'! I'm just complimenting your friend. What's wrong?'

She still didn't look at him. 'Why didn't you let me talk to her?' Doyle asked frowning… something wasn't making sense.

'Because!' she stopped talking.

'That's not a reason,' he said to her, softly.

She sighed and finally met his eyes. 'I didn't want you bonding with her over computer hacking skills over the phone.'

'What?'

'Just leave it, OK?'

'No, Cordelia, you're not happy and I want to know why… why was it so important I not get to talk to her? ...You can't be jealous? That doesn't make any sense.'

She broke eye contact and looked away, tutting.

'You don't trust me?' he asked, hurt.

'Yes I trust you, _of course_ I trust you. I just don't trust _her_!'

Doyle looked completely nonplussed.

'She's a total snake in the grass,' Cordelia told him.

'Cute, sweet Willow is a total snake in the grass?'

'Duh! _Yes!_ '

'I thought she was Buffy's best friend?'

'She is. She's the bestest best friend of the slayer, she's a total genius, a computer hacker and a practising witch.' Cordy took a deep breath, but didn't look back at the man in front of her for the next part: 'she's also the girl who stole my boyfriend.'

A look of sympathetic understanding crossed Doyle's face, he held Cordelia's hands more tightly. 'Cordelia, look at me.'

She tutted again, and gazed around for a bit, but eventually she looked towards him, she still didn't make eye contact though. 'I know you've been hurt before, but that isn't gonna happen this time. If your last boyfriend cheated on you with Willow … then he's an idiot, and I don't blame you for not trusting her either. But y' can't think I could fall so madly in love with a disembodied voice at the end of the phone that I'd forget all about you.'

'I guess, when you put it that way …'

'And there's no reason to think that Willow would be interested in me anyway.'

'You've got a foreign accent, and over the phone - she can't see that shirt!' Doyle looked at her pointedly, she shrugged. 'She split up with Oz,' she said, 'and I've not heard that there's any new guy. Besides, she took from me before, why wouldn't she again, if she could?'

'She couldn't. Not this time. But why d'ya think she'd want to?'

Cordelia looked at her shoes. 'I dunno, payback? For all the times I was really mean to her growing up, just because I could get away with it? And then she took Xander and I lost all my friends and it was like...I got what I'd had coming, all those years. I had to pay. It's like...I'd deserved to lose Xander to her, she was owed him. But maybe I'm not done paying yet for all the mean things I said back in high school?'

'No.' Doyle said, simply. 'That's not how the world works. So you were a mean girl in high school? You were a _child_ Cordelia, it's all part of growing up. But you're an adult now, and you know better. And even if the universe wanted to take me away from you … I wouldn't let it.'

'You wouldn't?'

'No way!' He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face so she was looking directly at him. 'You are the kindest, strongest, most amazing woman I have ever met, Cordelia Chase. Sure, you're brutally honest and tact will never be your thing, but you've got a good heart. You _choose_ to help people. Me, Angel, Buffy we don't have a choice, that decision was made for us. Even Wesley was born to this, being a watcher. You could walk away any moment you wanted to, and you choose to stay and fight. Even though you don't have any special powers to help you face the darkness, you face it anyway.

You've been through more horror and bloodshed in your short lifetime than most people will ever know, and you're still standing, you keep coming back for more. You take care of the three of us, we'd be lost without you - our injuries would never heal and we'd be flat out broke. You keep our whole team together, make what we do possible.

You never give up on your friends. You lived through Angel becoming evil when you were still in school and you're still willing to be his friend… and you accepted what I was straight away, even though I hid it from you for so long. I can't even begin to tell you what that means to me. And you're generous! You give up your time for the hopeless types, and you gave all that money to me. You always think of others.

You think you're shallow and vain and selfish but you're really not. The thing of it is, Cordelia, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life and that _still_ manages to be the least interesting thing about you. How could anyone, even the super hacking wiccan best friend of the slayer, hold a candle to you?'

Cordelia looked thoughtful, 'I guess I am pretty awesome,' she admitted.

Doyle laughed, and put his arm around her as they continued walking. 'Nothing would ever keep me away from you, Cordy, not even death itself.' He thought about the beacon he was supposed to have died destroying back in November, and how destiny had changed itself to keep him alive and the beacon powerless, until he had found it the vault that afternoon and completed his fated task. 'The higher powers themselves would rewrite time to make sure we get a chance,' he told her.

* * *

Angel sat in his darkened office, brooding. Wesley walked in, 'the children are with their mentor,' he told his boss.

'Good.'

'You did some good work today.'

'I know.'

'And yet you don't seem very happy about it?'

Angel sighed, his feet had been up on the desk and he swung them to the floor, so he could lean forward. 'There was something in the vault at Wolfram and Hart today,' he told the watcher. 'Something that called to me, I couldn't understand it, but I knew it was important and I had to have it.'

'But you didn't take it?'

'No, there wasn't time. Doyle found the Scourge's beacon in the vault as well...we've been searching for months, we had to destroy it ... _Doyle_ had to destroy it.'

'And what was it that called out to you?'

'I'm not sure, it was a metal tube and had these symbols on it… maybe it held something… like parchment?'

'A scroll?' Wesley was intrigued. 'It might have been a prophecy, I suppose. If you were the subject, then that would explain why it spoke to you.'

'It just felt … meant to be, Y'know?' the vampire told him. 'I feel like, both our destinies were in that vault, Doyle and me. Doyle fulfilled his but I've left mine behind.'

'Well, I can do some research for you, if you like,' Wesley offered. 'I'm sure there must be something in the books about prophecies pertaining to vampires, and one with a soul no less ...I'll see what I can find.'

'Thanks.'

* * *

Lindsey was at his apartment, turning things over in his mind. _You're panicking,_ he remembered the vampire saying. _You can't believe how bad you've let things get. But that's not change._ Had he changed? Or had he just panicked? He thought of the shack that he'd called home until he was seven, and his dead brothers, and how hard he had had to work to escape that. _You got stepped on or you got to stepping._ That was the way it had always been.

_I grew up poor ...I used what I'd been through to help people, not to screw 'em._ The half breed knew better where Lindsey was coming from than the vampire did. The little demon mongrel might be happy with the side he'd chosen, but he was one of the people that Lindsey and his kind would step on, like a bug. Was the third way a viable way? If you worked hard, stayed ahead of the game?

He thought about his father's face as he signed away the deeds to their home, and he thought about Holland Manners' words: _Look deep inside of you. I know you'll find your place._ He remembered Lee's body being dragged out of the room and the blood spattered on his own face. He remembered the blind children cowering from the assassin that he had set loose into the world. _I used what I'd been through to help people._ He remembered the joking with the repo men, his daddy being nice to the bastards that were making his children homeless. _I know you'll find your place._ He made his decision...

* * *

It was late when Lindsey arrived at the office block, but he went on up anyway. He knew he'd still be there.

Sure enough, there he was working away behind his desk, late into the night. It was all late night's and long hours here, Lindsey knew that. Long hours and low pay ...being public servants and all.

The D.A looked up from behind his desk and scowled when he saw the Wolfram and Hart attorney standing in the doorway. 'What do you want?' he demanded, not bothering to greet him.

'Actually,' Lindsey said, 'I was hoping you'd give me a job' …


	53. To Shanshu in L.A: Part One

Wesley turned the page of his ancient text book, he pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned as he read the words. He muttered a little to himself, and his forehead creased as he thought. He flicked to the index and skimmed his finger down the page until he found what he was looking for. He double checked the page number and flipped through until he found it. 'Aha!'

Angel looked up from the book he was reading, Doyle and Cordelia glanced up from the newspaper they were sharing on the sofa. 'Did you find something?' The vampire wanted to know.

'Yes...perhaps...' The watcher told him. 'This book makes reference to the prophecies of Aberjian, a collection of writings that have been collated over the past 4000 years and, if this book is to be believed, placed in the possession of The Wolf The Ram and The Hart.'

'Wolfram and Hart,' Angel said.

'Precisely… these prophecies are in many different languages and pertain to many different subjects … there's a reference here to the holy triumvirate of blind children…'

'Those kids from last week?' Doyle said.

'Yes… and they include something called the words of Anatole and - most importantly - a section on 'the vampire with a soul'.'

'There's a section on Angel?' Cordelia asked 'Neato! Is there a section on me?'

'Yay and verily the 'Stain Be Gone' girl shall remove many stains and irritate many British men as they try to translate the ancient prophecies that foretell the coming struggles against the darkness.' Wesley read in all seriousness, he looked up at her. 'No, Cordelia, there is nothing in the prophecies of Aberjian about _you_.'

'Very funny, Mr. Joyless translator guy,' Cordelia told him, but Doyle and Angel laughed.

'So what's the prophecy say about Angel?' Doyle wanted to know.

'Well, I don't actually have the prophecy here, this book is just a guide to many different prophecies that exist in the world…'

'So you have, like, the Cliff Notes version?'

'Yes, Cordelia, I have 'like' the Cliff Notes version.'

'Well that's good isn't it? It should speed things up? Isn't that what Cliff Notes does?'

'Reading a book that is tangentially linked to a prophecy is not the same as reading 'The Prophecies of Aberjian for Dummies'.' Wesley retorted.

'Guys!' Angel interrupted, before Cordelia could get in with her furious reply. 'Is there anything useful in that book, besides the fact that this prophecy exists?' He asked Wesley.

The watcher scanned through the page until he hit upon a likely looking paragraph. 'The bit about you … it never mentions you by name you understand...'

'But how many 'vampires with souls' are there?' Doyle asked. 'I'm thinkin' our boy's unique, yeah?'

'Quite… the part about the vampire with the soul is referred to as the …'Shanshu prophecy'.' The watcher leaned back in his chair, 'shanshu ...shanshu...I don't know the word I'm afraid, I'll have to cross reference it.'

'The Prophecies of Aberjian for Dummies is not looking so stupid now, huh?' Cordelia sniped.

* * *

Outside the building, a dark, caped figure passed by; taking in the sign that told him that Angel Investigations was located at number 103.

* * *

Cordelia nudged Doyle and pointed at something she had seen in the paper. 'Well, would you look at that!' the half demon said in surprise.

'What's up?' Angel asked.

'You remember born again lawyer boy from Wolfram and Hart?' Cordelia said.

'Lindsey.'

'Uhuh...well he's left evil incorporated and just joined the D.A's office as their brand new prosecuting attorney.'

'I guess maybe he really did want to change after all,' the vampire mused.

'Well that's great!' said Doyle, 'another soul saved! He can be one of the good guys now.'

'I hope so.' Angel suddenly froze and looked towards the door.

'What is it?' Wesley asked.

'It's a little late for visitors.' The vampire got up and walked out into the entrance hall of the building. His three employees followed on behind.

The dark, caped figure was sneaking through the lobby. Angel raised his battle axe and the figure shrieked. 'Mr Nabbit?' the vampire said in confusion, as the figure pulled his hood down, revealing his face.

'David?' Cordelia asked.

'I'm sorry,' Angel said, looking at his axe, 'I didn't mean to..'

But David did not seem offended at being threatened with a deadly weapon. 'That was awesome!' the billionaire exclaimed, 'can we do it again?'

Wesley furrowed is brow,'Mr. Nabbit, what's wrong? Are you in need of any help?' he asked.

But David shook his head and gave the team a large, goofy grin. 'Me? No. I just popped by to hang. I blew off my meeting with the board of directors because tonight's my turn to be dungeon master. What do you think of my cape?'

'Shiny,' Cordelia told him.

'You guys wanna hang?' David asked. He looked past them into the office and his face lit up in excitement. 'Wow, oh wow. This is it, the place where it all happens, right?'

'You mean the place where we drink coffee and snipe at each other?' said Cordelia, 'this is the very place!'

Doyle smiled at her, 'I think a fair bit o' flirtin' goes on too, yeah?'

'Life and death situations can be all sexy,' Cordelia agreed.

But David wasn't listening to them, he had entered the office, still wearing the awed expression on his face. The others followed him in. 'They come here…' he said 'the helpless...in agony.'

'Most of the agony is my visions.'

'They have no one to turn to - so they come to you...they drink the coffee.' The four members of team Angel turned to look at their rather underwhelming coffee maker and then turned back to the billionaire. 'They sit on this sofa,' he sat down and patted it, 'unspeakable fiends from hell hot on their heels.' The team continued to stare at him in silence. 'And what did I do today? Spun off my digital pager network, made a few more million,' they continued staring, 'well several more million. But big whoop! What does that even mean?'

'No more shopping at the pennysaver?'

'I mean… your lives are just so meaningful - so exciting. You fight demons! Any moment one could walk right through that door.' They all turned to look at the doorway. It remained empty, as did the shadowy hallway outside, they looked back at Nabbit. 'You guys seen any cool demons lately?' he asked, hopefully.

* * *

Outside Wolfram and Hart, two monks were chanting. They stood over a white circle drawn on the ground. Holland Manners and Lilah Morgan watched, from a safe distance. 'This hallowed ground is made ready. As it is written: he that is of pure darkness shall come into the light,' the monks intoned. The ground shook and the circle burst into flames, the fire reaching up to shoulder height. A figure was brought forth. He wore a long cape and a bronze mask. He stepped through the licking flames and was met by the two attorneys. 'Welcome to Wolfram and Hart,' said Holland Manners, reaching out to shake the caped figure's hand. 'I hope you had a pleasant journey.'

* * *

The team were still staring at David Nabbit, and the little billionaire was running out of things to say. 'You guys - ah you never know what's gonna happen around here and that's - ah …' he stood up, abruptly. 'OK it was nice to see you again.'

'You too,' Angel agreed.

'It was fun!' nodded Cordy.

'Drop in again soon.' Wesley told him. Nabbit left and Doyle shut the door behind him. He shook his head: 'tragic.'

'A very wealthy man with just - no life at all?'

'How can that even happen?'

'Money is wasted on the rich,' Cordelia told him.

'I'm going to start researching it,' Wesley suddenly announced.

'Very wealthy men, with no life?' Cordelia frowned, 'seems like a niche thing to look into, if you ask me.'

'No! The word, in the prophecy.'

'Oh that shoe shine thing?'

'Shanshu'

'Yeah.'

'If I get the book of Ranjarin and cross reference it with the book of Kelsaur it should only take ...most of the night.'

'Well you get right on that,' Cordelia told him, 'me and Doyle will…'

But Doyle's body had gone rigid and seized up. He crashed into the couch recently vacated by David Nabbit and held his head as the vision pain overwhelmed him.

'...stay right here whilst Doyle has a vision of our latest creature feature.' Cordelia finished off, looking at him in despair. She went to get the aspirin and some water out of the water cooler.

'It's a woman,' Doyle gasped, 'I think she's homeless, and she's being attacked by a slime demon. Nasty smellin' fella.' He grimaced. Cordelia sat down next to him and handed him the water. She removed the cotton wool from the aspirin bottle for him and shook a couple into his outstretched hand. He tossed them back, 'thanks, Cordy.'

'No problem.'

'Where is it?' Angel asked.

'He lives behind a waste treatment plant in …' Doyle held his head again to try and retain the information he had received from the powers '...Elscando.'

'Got it. Wes, you're with me. Cordy, look after him.'

The two men ran out of the office, and the half demon lay back on the couch with a groan. 'Would you like some Scotch?' Cordelia asked him. He thought about it…

* * *

Inside Holland's office the bronze faced demon was pacing. 'You have summoned me for a raising?'

'That's the plan,' Lilah said.

'Who is that you wish to destroy?'

'We've been having vampire problems…'

'A vampire? I do not perform rituals to destroy common _vampires_ , they are weak and easy to kill.'

'This one is rather different,' Holland informed him. 'He has a soul.'

'Angelus?'

'He goes by Angel now, but yes … that's him. He's caused us no end of trouble and we want to bring him down...hence the raising.'

'I will need the scroll of Aberjian,' the demon said.

'It's in our vault,' Lilah informed him.

'The vampire is connected to The Powers that Be?'

The two attorney's nodded.

'Before the raising, I will sever that connection. The vampire shall face this alone.'

* * *

Two Police Officers watched as the car drove up, its siren blaring. They sighed with relief when Kate got out. 'Here she is.'

'What's up guys?' she asked, approaching them.

'It's one of those nutbar ones,' the first officer told her, 'the type that don't make any sense. So we radioed for you.'

'Gee, I'm touched.'

'Come on now Detective Lockley! You know you're getting a rep. You're our go to guy when the weird just gets a little too weird. You always seem to know what's going on.'

'I never know what's going on,' Lockley told them, 'same as everyone else, the difference between me and you is that I know what I don't know. I work around it. You guys are still trying to make it make sense.'

'Well this one don't make a whole lot of sense,' the second officer told her. 'There was a lot of other worldly wailing and howling and then something slimy dragged a homeless lady away.'

'I'm on it,' she walked past them.

'You sure you don't want any back up?' the first officer called. She shook her head and headed towards the scene of the disturbance.

Angel and Wesley and the homeless woman walked around the corner. 'You two,' Kate said. 'I might have known.'

'See what they do?' the woman said, 'you turn your back on them and they come for you.'

'Well you're safe now,' Angel told her.

'Yeah you sliced him up good,' she agreed. 'He saved me from one of their spies,' she told Kate. Kate folded her arms and stared at Angel, the vampire shrugged. 'By the way,' the old homeless lady said, 'I don't appreciate the dental association watching me like that.' She hit Wesley.

'Ow!'

'He's one of them!' she told the others in a hushed whisper, 'you think I don't know but I know, he's one of them.' She walked off muttering to herself. The two men stayed behind with Kate.

'Hi!' Angel said.

'What was it?' she sighed.

'Slime demon.'

'Right. Gee that's gonna be a fun report for me to write!'

'I'm sorry,' Angel shuffled his feet. 'I know you would have preferred for it to be a regular criminal.'

'Yeah, I miss a good, clean arrest and and a report that doesn't read like a child's riddle book.'

'If it's any consolation …' Wesley started to say.

'It isn't,' she told him, shortly. 'Thanks for saving that woman, I'll figure something out to tell my supervisor.'

The three of them left the scene, Kate to return to the precinct and Angel and Wesley to go back to the office.

* * *

Doyle had moved off the couch and was sitting behind Cordelia's desk. He went into the bottom drawer and took out the bottle of scotch that he kept stashed there. Cordy glanced up from the sofa, 'you decided on a drink, after all?' She glanced across the room and then noticed the bottle that still stood next to coffee maker. She looked back at the one on the desk, frowning, 'where did you get that one from?' A sudden realisation hit her. 'H _ave you been hiding that thing in my desk?_ '

He nodded. 'There's another one in Angel's filing cabinet as well.'

'What?'

'Would you get them both for me?'

She stood up, muttering her disbelief and picked up the bottle from by the coffee maker and then went to root in the filing cabinet until she found what she was looking for. Bringing them both back into the outer office, she set them down on the desk next to the one Doyle had got out. They both looked at all three bottles.

'So….what?' she asked.

'Y'know, I really didn't drink that much before I knew I was a demon.' He told her. 'This…' he waved his hands at the bottle, 'all started when I first found out...because I couldn't cope...and then I just never stopped.'

'Do you want to stop now?'

He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, as he thought about what she had asked.

'Well...I'm not sayin' I'll never have another drink again,' he said, 'but everything in moderation, yeah? I've been thinking about Lindsey, and how he's managed to make some serious changes in his life. Leaving Wolfram and Hart, that's a big step. It took real courage. And Faith, before him, going to the police and giving up her freedom like that. They lost their way and Angel helped them get back to themselves again... It made me realise...there are some changes that I need to make too. I'm supposed to be gettin' my life back in order...I'm working, I'm payin' back my debts, I've stopped gambling, I'm beginning to accept that there's nothin' I can do about the whole demon thing so I might as well get over it...'

'About damn time ...you're really not tall enough for the whole brooding, tortured act.'

'This is the last bit,' he said, as if she hadn't interrupted. 'To finally get back to where I was, to be me again, I gotta stop drinkin' so much. It's a crutch. And I need to get on with my life without crutches, now.'

'Are you really ready for this?' Cordelia asked him.

He nodded, slowly. 'Would you ...would you get rid o' them for me?'

'Of course,' she picked all three bottles up, but before she moved away she stepped closer to him and kissed him on the cheek, 'I'm proud of you, y'know?'

He nodded again, 'thanks.'

She went into the office bathroom, and from the glugging sound that emanated from there, he surmised she was pouring all that scotch down the sink ...maybe he should have donated it to Wesley instead. He sat back down in the desk chair, feeling better about himself already. Of course, this new found sobriety was entirely dependent on the vision pain not getting any worse ...


	54. To Shanshu in L.A: Part Two

'Death,' Wesley slammed the book shut. He'd been cross referencing all night, working out at around three in the morning that the root of the word 'shanshu' was not Agean after all but came from the ancient Majars and had proto hungaric roots. That had changed the direction he was looking in and he had used the book of Ranjarin to help with the translation. At around 5 in the morning he had got the word, and he had spent the next 6 hours trying to find an alternate translation, another way to interpret the prophecy. But he had failed. 'It means death,' he told the room. 'The Shanshu prophecy is the prophecy of how the vampire with a soul will die.'

'Angel's going to die?' Cordelia asked, aghast. She and Doyle exchanged horrified looks, but the vampire didn't seem to share their disquiet. 'Oh,' he said looking up from his own book, 'is that it?'

'He took that well,' said Cordelia, 'maybe now would be a good time to discuss my raise?'

'It's probably years off ...after the coming battles,' Wesley assured him.

'My raise?...oh.' Wesley glared her, even Doyle gave her a look. Angel didn't seem to mind though.

'Everybody dies,' he said, closing his book. 'Is there anything else?'

'Angel, man, I think this is big enough on it's own, yeah? We need to sort this. Wesley?'

'Apocalyptic prophecies aren't an exact science,' the watcher tried to reassure the room. Doyle and Cordelia nodded along, Angel just looked bored. 'And I could be way off the mark, so no reason to be concerned.'

'Uhuh.'

'So - it's good you're not concerned….not even remotely concerned.'

'Yeah, OK.' Angel's voice was bored - completely uninterested in what Wesley had to say. He got up, without looking at them or saying anything more, and headed into the elevator, going down to his apartment and leaving silence in his wake.

Left upstairs in the office, the three living members of Angel investigations stared at each other.

'Well it's only a prophecy,' Cordelia said, 'it's not like it came from on high.' Both men looked at her, 'oh...right.'

'But prophecies can be circumvented, yeah? I mean just because something's written doesn't mean it has to be? Prophecies have been foiled, disasters averted? Haven't they?' Doyle looked between his two friends who had lived on the hellmouth, hoping they might know better than him.

'Wait! There was that time the ancient prophecy said that Buffy was gonna die!' Cordelia snapped her fingers as she thought of it, triumphant to have come up with a thwarted prophecy so quickly, but then she frowned. 'Oh...I guess she did die. Scratch that.'

The two of them slumped back against the back of the sofa in defeat.

'It isn't the news that Angel is going to die that worries me,' Wesley told them, 'though obviously that isn't good. What worries me is the way he took the news.'

'You mean old Joe stoic?'

'Exactly, if you had some divine foreknowledge of your own demise, how would you react?'

'Well, I guess I wouldn't be too happy, bud.' But the watcher's words got him thinking, maybe there was a prophecy that had been overturned...

'I think Buffy was power freaked.'

'Precisely. We are connected to life, we have reason to be here, to want to stay. I fear that Angel lacks that.'

'Angel isn't connected to life?' Cordelia asked. 'Is that because he's already dead?'

'In a way. Our connection to life is our desires, our wants. You want to be an actress, you and Doyle want to be together.' The two of them glanced at each other awkwardly, before looking back at Wesley. 'You might want a day off, or a pay rise or a snow cone!' he continued. 'There are things that you wish to achieve, even fleetingly, and they keep you bound to the world. And as we achieve our desires we change, we grow, we evolve. And then we want new things.'

'But Angel can't do any of that,' Doyle said.

'Because he's a vampire?'

'There's only one thing he's ever wanted in his unnaturally long life, he got that and he gave it back.'

'Is this about Buffy?'

'He can't have her, and there's nothing else for him. Wes is right, he's disconnected.'

'Well, we just have to connect him then.'

'It might not be that simple,' Wesley told them, 'he is what he is, a vampire, eternal, unchanging and with a soul that stops him from acting on his base desires. He can't change what he is.'

'So what? We just have to put up with all the brooding until the coming battles are here and Mr. 'I'm so tortured' pops his clogs?'

'If we can't find a way to get through to him...' Wesley told her. She looked at Doyle and raised her eyebrows at him. He got what she wanted him to do. 'I'll go talk to him' he said.

* * *

He expected to find Angel working out, beating up the punching bag that hung downstairs. That was how he had found him last time the vampire had seemed to disconnect from the world, after he had been human and spent the day with Buffy, only to rewrite time and let The Oracles swallow the day as if it had never happened.

But the punching bag hung still, untouched, and the vampire was stood at the microwave. It pinged and he took his cup of blood out and began to drink. This was worse than Doyle had thought, there was no emotion there. 'Hey, man,' he said, stepping into the kitchen.

'Doyle.'

'Look, about what Wesley said upstairs…'

'What about it?'

'I just think we need to talk about…'

'Why? Because I'm not upset?'

'Yeah.'

'You want me to be upset?'

'Yeah … I mean, no ...I mean - that's some pretty big news, it should warrant some reaction.'

'It's not that big a deal,' Angel told him, 'everyone dies in the end, even vampires. And the ones that live too long can get to an ugly way of looking.'

'So that's it? That's your big plan to deal with all this?… just accept your fate?'

'It's fate, Doyle, you have to accept it, it's fated.'

'I was fated to die,' the half demon told him. ' ...And I didn't. A higher power intervened on my behalf, or at least that's what Lilah Morgan said.'

'Well, If Mrs. Evil 2000 said something, it must be true.'

'My point is that, just because something is written it doesn't mean you just have to lie down and take it, things can get in the way, yeah? But you gotta fight. If you don't fight, then it just becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.'

'Thanks for the pep talk, coach.'

'I'm serious, man!'

'So am I ...what do you want, Doyle?'

'I _want_ you to show some kind of reaction to the motherload of bad news that just hit. What do you want?'

'Nothing.'

'Yeah ...well...that's what Wesley says is the problem.' He sighed. 'You comin' back upstairs?'

'I'll just finish this first,' Angel lifted the mug to indicate the blood he was drinking. Doyle nodded and left him to it, going to report his failure to Wesley and Cordelia.

* * *

But Cordelia wasn't going to take this lying down. 'Maybe we should get him a puppy?'

'A puppy?'

'You're right, too high maintenance. A ficus? An ant farm?'

'I'm not sure we can just buy the solution to Angel's problems, darlin'.'

'Well that's not good enough. Angel's gonna have to start wanting stuff. Whether he wants to or not.'

* * *

The Oracles were angry, they paced up and down, venting their displeasure at the bronze faced figure that stood before them. 'How dare you enter this sacred space?' demanded the female oracle.

'Who do you think you are?' her brother asked.

'We do not appreciate being summoned by a lower being.'

'Who knows no better than to come here on a whim.'

'I am not here on a whim,' the demon replied.

'We do not counsel your kind,' said the sister oracle, 'the powers of darkness are not allowed to cross this threshold. How did you get in?'.

'The old order passes away,' the demon informed them. 'He that was first shall now be last and those that were dead shall now arise.'

'Yes, and he that is trespassing shall now depart,' retorted the golden woman.

The bronze faced demon put his hand behind his back. The male oracle spoke again, 'we shall speak no more,' he said, hoping to dismiss this lower being from the chamber.

A battle scythe grew into being in the hidden hand of the demon. 'I know,' he said, and swung his weapon.

* * *

Wesley left the office and headed out to 'The All Seeing Eye', a bookshop that dealt with the most arcane of materials, and rarest of writings. He was sure, if he just looked hard enough, he could find something that would shine a new light on the prophecy of Aberjian, make it say something different. He settled down into the musty, dusty old store, and started browsing the shelves. If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have had a really enjoyable afternoon.

* * *

Cordelia and Doyle had also left the office. Cordy was insistent that they go out into the world and find something that would pique Angel's interest, give his life some meaning. The half demon wasn't at all sure that this was possible, certainly not in the places that Cordelia would be looking. But he didn't want to upset her, and he did want to help Angel, so he went along. It wasn't like he had any better ideas.

They found their way to a bright street market, where various craft items and homemade goods were being sold. It was a beautiful day, as it always was in L.A, and the pair of them enjoyed their walk through the bustling stalls, taking in the sunshine and looking at the goodies. As always, Cordelia had her arm linked through Doyle's, and she was using this leverage over him to drag him over to look at whatever item caught her fancy. Not that he was unwilling to follow her, wherever she chose to go. It was a shame Angel could never do this, Doyle thought: walk out in the sunshine and just take in the world around him, enjoy the day with the woman he loved. As long as he was a vampire these simple pleasures, which most people took for granted, would always be impossible for him. Even when he'd had Buffy, the pair of them had never been able to spend a day like this. No wonder Angel felt disconnected and prepared to die...what was there to live for?

Cordelia spotted an art stall and dragged Doyle over towards it. 'Angel likes to draw,' she told him, 'maybe we could get him some art supplies...then we can work our way up to a puppy.'

'A puppy that only wants nighttime walkies, right?'

'Right.'

They browsed the stall, Cordy picked up some paints. 'What about these?'

'Do you paint?' the lady behind the counter asked her.

'Oh no, I sketch a little ...but these are for a friend. He's seem rather detached recently. I thought maybe if he had a hobby…'

'Well they say art is the best therapy.'

'They do?'

'Sure. They use it in mental institutions all the time. They get the patients to draw or work with clay. It helps them get back in touch.'

'Well he isn't crazy or anything ...just different.'

'Depressed?'

'Well, he does wear a lot of black. How much are the pastels?'

Doyle zoned out of the conversation. He closed his eyes in order to enjoy the feel of the sun on his face. It had never felt like that back at home, and even though he'd been here for, what? Seven years now? He still wasn't over how good it felt to be truly warm ...every day… It was May now, near the end… it would be at least twenty degrees cooler back in Dublin, if they were having a nice day, which in spring was in no way guaranteed. Not that it was guaranteed even in the summer. He suddenly frowned to himself, what day was it? He'd have to check the paper - because if he was right …

A dark shadow passed him by; even with his eyes closed, he felt the way the sun was blocked out for a moment. He opened his eyes but there was nothing there...and Cordelia didn't seem to have noticed anything. The art lady was handing her two bulging plastic bags. Whilst Doyle had spaced out, Cordelia seemed to have bought up the whole stall.

'I think you'll have everything you need and then some,' the lady said, 'You made my day, thanks.' Cordelia smiled in response. 'He must be a really good friend.'

'He is,' Cordy replied, 'thank you. Are you ready?' she said the last bit to Doyle, he nodded his assent and they continued on their way through the market. He took one of the bags off her and held that in his left hand, his right arm was being held onto by Cordy's left, and then she had the other bag in her right hand. They walked through the stalls together, perfectly balanced.

The dark shadow passed him by again and Doyle frowned, he wondered what it could be. As the sun was blocked, momentarily, he felt something brush against his left hand, the one that was carrying the bag. He looked down and barely had time to register a dark mark smudged on his skin before he was hit by a vision. It was thankfully short, but he still dropped the bag he was carrying and stumbled, as the pain hit him hard.

'What gives?' Cordelia asked him, but then realised what was up, and braced herself against him, supporting him so he didn't fall over. He came out of the vision and shook his head. 'What did you see?' she asked but, before he could answer, he was hit by another and then another and then another. He fell to the floor and his body began to convulse as the visions hit him wave after wave, the next one beginning before the last one had finished. He felt like he was going to die, the pain in his head was so intense. Miles above him, he heard Cordelia cry out, but there was nothing he could do to reach her.

The lady from the art stall ran over, 'what's wrong with him?' she cried. Cordelia didn't answer. She just knelt by Doyle, looking anguished, not knowing what to do. 'Someone call 911' shouted the lady.

Cordy's head snapped up. 'No! you can't do that, he can't go to a proper hospital!' But the crowd that had gathered around the fittting man ignored her, and an ambulance was called. Cordelia sat in the midst of these onlookers, trapped, wondering how she was going to get her half demon friend out of there and away to safety, when he wouldn't stop having the visions.

* * *

She didn't manage it, she couldn't possibly move him by herself, he was far too big and heavy for her, and the helpful onlookers wouldn't have let her anyway. They only cleared a path when the paramedics came. Doyle was strapped onto a stretcher and carried away, she got into the ambulance with him and held his hand, silently begging his forgiveness for letting the proper medical authorities get a hold of him.

* * *

Cordelia stood in the hospital corridor, crying softly. Doyle had been taken off for tests by the doctors and she hadn't been allowed to go with him. She had no idea what they would find, if they would notice that he wasn't fully human, and what they would do about it if they did.

Angel appeared in the corridor beside her and she hugged him tightly. 'I didn't know what to do!' she confessed. 'What if they find out…?'

'There's nothing we can do about that, now,' the vampire told her, 'have they told you anything?'

She shook her head, 'they won't be able to do anything. It's the visions, Angel, he just won't stop having them...he must be in so much pain.'

Angel hugged her even closer, 'we'll see what we can find out,' he promised. Then they heard Doyle scream, and the vampire found he was done waiting, already. He barged into the room, Cordelia following on behind him, and looked at where Doyle was strapped down to the bed. Even though he was restrained, his whole body kept shuddering. He was being thrown around by the pain of the visions and had no control over where he was thrown to next. Angel had never seen him suffer this much through a vision, before.

'Hey you can't be in here,' The doctor said, 'are you family?'

'Yes. what's happening?'

'He's having a psychotic episode. We've done a CAT scan, there doesn't seem to be any organic damage ...though some stuff doesn't make sense.'

'He has a rare genetic abnormality,' Angel told the doctor, 'but that won't be affecting this.'

The doctor looked at the chart. 'Says there's no history of mental illness? Is that right?'

'Yes'

'And he doesn't do drugs?'

'No … he drinks, but ….'

'Alcohol wouldn't cause this,' The doctor said. He glanced at Cordelia, 'you must be his wife?'

'What?'

'According to his records his next of kin is his wife, Harriet Doyle.'

'The records are out of date,' Cordelia said in a small voice, 'she's his ex wife ...he's ...we're his family now.'

'OK, well I hope his records are up to date about allergies because we can't seem to sedate him and we need to try some pretty strong stuff.'

'Drugs won't help him,' Angel said. 'But I know someone who might.' He whirled around and left the room, stalking off down the corridor.

'Is he always that melodramatic?' the doctor asked Cordelia. But she didn't answer, she just moved closer to the bed and held onto Doyle's hand.

The doctor looked back down at the medical records in his hand, 'poor kid,' he said as he left the room, 'what a rotten way to spend his birthday.'


	55. To Shanshu in L.A: Part Three

Angel stormed down the corridor, ringing Wesley as he went. 'Wes, it's me. Doyle's hurt. Something mystical. He can't stop having visions...he's at the hospital. I'm off to try and sort this out, will you come and sit with Cordelia?' He hung up the phone and bumped into Kate.

'Angel!'

'Kate.'

'Are you killing something here as well?'

'I'm sorry Kate, I don't have time for this…' he moved past her and stalked off, his brow furrowed and his face stony.

She watched him out, and then turned back to look the way he had come. The Detective was in the hospital because she had had to conduct an interview with a victim of assault. She wondered what the vampire had been doing there. She wandered down the corridor towards the room that Angel had just exited. Through the door she saw Cordelia stood next to a bed. Strapped to the bed was Doyle, and he seemed to be in a lot of distress, writhing in pain and crying out in agony. Cordelia was crying and holding his hand. A nurse was trying to get close enough to inject him with a sedative, but he kept thrashing around and she wasn't having much luck. Just as Kate reached the threshold of the room, Doyle let out a cry of unbearable pain, his skin turned green and the blue spikes shot out from under his skin. The nurse began to scream...

* * *

Angel found Gunn around the back of Milano's Italian Kitchen, he and his gang were loading boxes of leftovers into their truck. 'Yo, what up, man?' Gunn asked when he saw the vampire approaching.

'I need your help,' Angel told him.

'Well I didn't think you'd come down here just to inquire after my health. It's pretty good by the way. What you need? 'Cause if it involves throwing a vamp in with a bunch of lawyer types, count me in! That was my idea of fun.'

But Angel shook his head, it was a different kind of help he was after this week. 'My friend has been attacked, something has hacked into his visions and he can't stop having them. He's in the neuro-psychiatric unit at St. Mathew's. My other people are with him,' he said. 'This whole thing has got a Wolfram and Hart stink to it and I need you to keep an eye on my friends whilst I track down the cause of this and stop it. I don't want anyone, demon or lawyer, getting within a hundred yards of my friends. This man means a lot to me, I have to save him, but I need to know he's safe whilst I do.'

'No problem… Hey! Throw down with a lawyer for me, yeah?'

* * *

The nurse had backed away from the bed, screaming. Now a demon, Doyle was still convulsing on the bed, and Cordelia had dropped his hand and was leaning across him as far as she could; desperately trying to protect him from the view of the nurse, or anyone else who might walk past in the corridor. Kate closed the door behind her and flashed her badge at the screaming nurse, 'Detective Lockley, LAPD, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down, Ma'am.'

Cordelia and the nurse both looked at her, the nurse was still panting in shock but she had stopped making actual noise. 'Would you give him that sedative please?' Kate asked.

In his demon face, Doyle had stopped thrashing around quite so violently, as his stronger form made the pain more bearable. He still shuddered and shook as the visions crashed into his mind, but it would be possible to get near enough to inject him now. The nurse looked at him, unwilling to get any closer to the green monster on the bed. 'Ma'am, he needs that sedative, please give it to him.' She sounded calm and in control, and that made the nurse calmer as well, having someone take charge in this unprecedented situation.

Nervously she approached the spiky, green thing on the bed, thankful that it was restrained, and plunged the syringe into its arm.

As the drugs took effect, Doyle went still, but his red eyes were glassy and Cordelia could tell that the sedative hadn't stopped the visions, it had just stopped him from moving. He was still in pain.

Kate nodded, when she saw the sedative administered, satisfied that things were getting back under control. 'Now ma'am, this room is going to have to be off limits unless Miss Chase calls for a doctor,' she told the nurse. 'I'm going to have to ask you to leave and not tell anyone what you saw, is that clear?'

The frightened nurse nodded and scuttled out of the room, relieved to be away from ...whatever that thing was. She wasn't going to tell anyone about it - they'd think she was crazy.

There was a quiet moment in the room after she'd left. The two remaining women looked at each other. 'Thank you,' Cordelia said.

'No problem.'

'Why did you…?'

'He saved my father's life,' Kate told her. 'And I shot him for it. This is the least I can do to repay him. Is there anything else I can…?'

'Could you … could you stop anyone else from coming in here? And seeing him like this?'

'Sure, I'll sit right outside.'

The detective left the hospital room, inching her way through a crack in the door so as not to expose the contents of the room to anyone who might be passing. She shut it behind her and then pulled up a chair. She settled down, wondering how long it would be before Angel fixed this. She didn't doubt for a moment that he would.

* * *

Wesley arrived at the hospital, laden down with the books he had found at 'The All Seeing Eye'. He went to the nurses station and asked which room Francis Doyle was in. The nurse gave him a startled look, almost as if she expected him to suddenly sprout horns or something, and then scurried away, refusing to answer his question. He looked after her, a bemused expression on his handsome face, and then decided to go and find Doyle and Cordy for himself.

He met Kate out in the corridor. 'Detective Lockley!' he greeted her, 'What brings you here?'

'Routine assault case, primarily,' she told him, 'but then Doyle turned green and frightened the bejesus out of the medical staff, so now I'm making sure no one goes in there and sees him.' That explained the nurse's reaction, Wesley thought. 'He's just in there, go on in,' Kate said. He nodded his thanks and went through the door. As the door closed and Kate resettled herself, she noticed a young, tall, black guy in a bandanna walk into the waiting room and sit down, he didn't seem to be with anyone and she wondered what he was doing there.

...

Cordelia looked up in alarm as the door opened, but then sat back down, relieved, when she realised it was just Wesley. Doyle was lying still on the bed, his hands strapped down, and he was still wearing his demon face. He was moaning, but no words were intelligible, his eyes were glazed over and it seemed for all the world like Doyle wasn't really there any more. He had retreated into himself, into the pain, and all that was left was his demon outer shell. Cordelia looked heartbroken.

The watcher sat down beside her, 'How are you?' he asked, it seemed pointless to ask after Doyle. She just sniffed. 'Can I get you anything?' he wanted to know, 'something to eat? a coffee?' She shook her head, then her face crumpled and she began to cry, in earnest. Wesley put his arm around her and began to stroke her hair, soothingly. He looked at where she was holding Doyle's left hand in both of her own and frowned. There was a smudge on Doyle's skin that the British man did not recall ever having seen before. 'Cordelia, does Doyle have any tattoos?' he asked.

She looked at him as if he was crazy, but she answered: 'No, he doesn't like needles ...why?...'

'Look at this mark,' he pulled Doyle's hand free from her own and showed it to her.

'What is it?'

'I don't know, but it's a bit of a coincidence ...he gets a mysterious mark on his hand and suddenly the visions won't stop.'

Cordelia sniffed again, 'what do we do ?'

'I'm calling Angel.'

* * *

The vampire had just reached the post office when his cell rang, 'hello?'

'It's me...Angel, did you see the mark on Doyle's hand?'

'What mark?'

'I don't recognise it … it's black, has a circle at the bottom and it's attached to something else...maybe a scythe?'

'It looks a bit like a unicycle,' Angel heard Cordelia cut into the conversation. The watcher sighed a bit. 'It's clearly an ancient and mystical symbol ...but she's not wrong.'

'And you think this symbol is what's causing the visions?' Angel asked.

'I should say so...what do we do?'

'I'm going to visit some old friends,' the vampire told him and clicked his phone shut.

* * *

Inside the antechamber, before the gateway to lost souls, Angel prepared the ritual. He remembered the first time he had seen this done, the day he had become human and Doyle had brought him here to seek answers. Well he wanted answers now. He placed some herbs into the urn that stood there, and then used a zippo to light them. 'I beseech access to the knowing ones,' he said. There was a flash of bright, white light and the doorway opened. Angel stepped into the chamber of the oracles.

He stared around in disbelief. The oracles lay on the floor, slaughtered. A scythe was buried into the body of the sister oracle. He realised, as he looked at the bodies of the immortal beings, that this was an all out attack on him and his link to the powers. It was no coincidence that Doyle was incapacitated the same day that the oracles were killed. Someone had declared war on The Powers that Be.

The ghostly image of the golden woman appeared beside him. 'It is unfortunate,' the spectre said. 'Things are unravelling. The dark ones broach our temple now.'

'Can you help me?' Angel asked.

'I cannot stay long. I've been dead a while. So far I don't care for it.'

'My friend who gets the visions…'

'Is in trouble. He bears the mark of the one who did this.'

'Who did this?'

'A demon. Named Voca. A warrior of the underworld. He wanted you weak, so he severed your link to the powers and opened the messenger's mind to all the suffering in the world. I'm afraid the half breed does not have long now.'

'How can I save him?'

'You need the scroll, the scroll of Aberjian. Voca has taken it. Only the words of Anatole can remove the mark and save your friend.'

She began to fade out of existence.

'Wait! How can I find this Voca?'

'He is here for the raising,' she said, her voice echoing as if she was a long way off now. 'As with so many of them, he hides behind man's law.' She vanished away, dissolving like mist. Angel was left alone; he pulled the scythe from out of the sister oracle's body and left the chamber, a gleam of furious determination in his eyes.

* * *

Wesley's cell rang. 'I can save him,' the vampire barked down the line. 'I need to get the scroll you were reading about, the scroll of Aberjian.'

'You need to go back into Wolfram and Hart?'

'It isn't there any more, but I know how to track it. There's a demon, name of Voca. it's his mark on Doyle's hand and he killed The Oracles.'

'He killed the ….? Angel if this demon is capable of killing the immortal conduits to the powers then he is more powerful than anything you've faced.'

'I know … I might not win. If I don't ...the sister oracle said that the words of Anatole are the only thing that will remove the mark and save Doyle… start looking them up?'

'Right away.'

The two men hung up. Wesley relayed the information to Cordelia and they both picked up one of the books that Wesley had brought to the hospital with him. Angel headed into the D.A's office.

* * *

Inside a crypt, five vampires were chained to a large box. They were frightened, twisting around trying to get free, but their chains were strong and they were bound in place. The box sat in the middle of a five pointed star, and the star was encased in a circle. Torches illuminated the room from around the sides. Chanting started up and the vampires tried more desperately to free themselves, but there was nothing they could do. The two monks entered the crypt followed by Voca. It was the monks that were chanting: 'We have prepared a holy place in the darkness and anointed it with oil. We have taken of the blood of the living and gathered together the living dead.'

Then Voca began to chant: 'As it was written they shall prepare the way, and the very gates of Hell shall open. That which is above shall tremble …'

The earth beneath them trembled and the vampires twisted in their chains, looking around, terrified.

'For that which is below shall arise. And the world shall know the beast - and the beast shall know the world.'

* * *

Outside Wolfram and Hart, Lilah and Holland stood waiting for their Limo. 'Aren't we going to be late?' the younger lawyer wanted to know.

'You never want to be on time for a ritual,' her boss told her, 'the chanting, the blood rites, they go on for hours.' He turned to look at some removal men stood by a van, 'you fine gentlemen will follow us,' he informed them. The Limo pulled up. 'You did cover all the bases, didn't you?' Holland asked Lilah, as they got in.

'Naturally.'

'The Senior Partners are keeping a close eye on proceedings. I would hate for us to disappoint them.'

'Believe me, sir, they will not be disappointed.'

* * *

'Nghuh!' Cordelia grunted in frustration. 'This is the book you had last night,' she told the watcher, 'Aberjian for Dummies? It _mentions_ the words of Anatole, but it doesn't tell us what they are. What's the point of telling us these words exist if you don't bother to write them down?'

'I'm not having that much luck, either,' Wesley admitted. 'I think we're going to have to have that scroll.'

Cordelia put her book down and pulled her chair closer to where Doyle was still lying on the bed. He wasn't moving anymore but he was still groaning quietly; his eyes were glassy and unfocused, and she noticed that tears were tracking their way down his face, in between his spikes. She reached out her hand and stroked his hair. 'I just hope Angel gets it and brings it here soon.'

* * *

As Lindsey left his new office, he felt someone collar him and slam him against the wall. 'Hey!' he looked up, it was the vampire. 'What gives?'

'Wolfram and Hart, where would they go to do a raising?'

Lindsey rubbed his chest where Angel had grabbed him, 'a raising has to be done on holy ground, they'd use a crypt. What's this about?'

'Any crypt they're most likely to use?'

'Yeah .. there's one they use for all their darkest rituals.'

Angel grabbed the born again Lawyer once more and pushed him forward. 'You're going to show me.'


	56. To Shanshu in L.A: Part Four

Voca held the scroll of Aberjian and walked between the points of the pentacle, pausing at each vertices. 'Five are without breath,' he chanted

'And yet they live,' intoned the monks.

'Five are without time.'

'And yet they live.'

A door opened and the two lawyers, followed by the removal men, entered the crypt.

'Five are without soul,' recited Voca, reading from the scroll.

'And yet they live.'

Holland Manners glanced at his watch. 'They haven't even got to the Latin yet,' he said in disgust.

'Five are without Sun.'

'And yet they live.'

Voca suddenly stopped reading, and placed the scroll down on top of the box. 'What is it?' Holland wanted to know.

'I don't know.' But he was worried. The demon held out his hand and another scythe grew there. The door crashed open and Angel and Lindsey burst in. Voca swung his scythe.

* * *

Wesley had gone on a coffee run. As he stood at the vending machine, he felt someone looking at him; a tall youth in a bandanna seemed to be paying close attention to his every move, it made the watcher uncomfortable. Once he'd gathered all three drinks, he delivered one to Detective Lockley and then went back inside the hospital room to Cordelia. He handed her her cup. She took it without looking, her eyes never leaving Doyle's face. The half demon had gone completely quiet now.

'Maybe his pain is less,' Wesley said to Cordelia, hoping to comfort her.

But she shook her head, 'he's fading,' she said. 'If Angel doesn't get back here soon…' her face crumpled again and she struggled to pull herself back together. 'We were just shopping y'know?' she said to her friend. 'Just wandering through the marketplace, like we had world enough and time. And then he's on the floor and he won't stop having visions and I just don't know what to do. How could he be taken from me so suddenly?'

'Angel will solve this, Cordelia… you have to believe…'

'I know, I do,' she sniffed, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand before reaching out and taking Doyle's green hand in her own once more. 'I just keep thinking how much he'd hate it, if he knew… that he's lying here in demon face and anyone can see him. If he's going to die, Wesley ...I know he'd want to look human when he did it.'

* * *

Angel swung his own scythe, the one he had taken from the body of the sister oracle, and smashed it against Voca's weapon. They fought, fiercely, slashing at each other with their long blades. 'Lindsey get the scroll!' shouted Angel, and the small lawyer ducked past the two battling demons and headed on down into the crypt.

'Lilah!' Holland's voice had a warning edge to it. She had promised that they would not disappoint The Senior Partners. She had reason not to - she remembered all too clearly the time Robert Price had done exactly that, and they had made him eat his own liver. She had come prepared.

She picked up the scroll and began to read. 'Five are dead,' she turned to the monks, 'chant!' she commanded.

'And yet they live.'

She switched into Latin. ' _And the five shall be a sacrifice and the one who is dead shall live.'_

As Lindsey approached her, she pulled out a gun and aimed it at him. 'I came prepared for trouble,' she told him.

He stood still, his hands raised, 'Lilah, don't do this.'

'You lost the way,' she said. 'And I'm reaping the benefit of that. I'm more ruthless than you can even dream, so don't try me.' she switched back into Latin. _'Even as life and death are not two things but one, in the darkness is the light, in the light is the darkness. Arise! Arise! Arise!'_

The earth began to shake and a great howling noise rent the air and, even though they were inside, the wind picked up. The panicked vampires pulled at their chains one last time. But, without the aid of stake or sunlight, they began to disintegrate away into dust and bone. They screamed out in pain, but were blown away as if they were nothing. Their dust formed a mighty whirlwind that encircled the box, rattling it and shaking it where it stood. The remnants of the sacrificial vampires were sucked inside the box. Then a ring of light exploded outwards and threw Lilah and Lindsey against opposite walls. They lay there, both unconscious.

Angel and Voca continued fighting through this as if nothing had happened, as if there had been no disturbance. Their blades caught the light of the flickering torches as they slashed through the air. Voca was strong, stronger than any demon Angel had ever faced, but the vampire was desperate and determined. He thought of Doyle lying strapped to his hospital bed and pushed onward. He had never needed to win a fight so badly.

Holland signalled the movers and they rushed to pick up the box. He followed them out of the crypt, glancing back at his unconscious associate and the unconscious body of his former golden boy. They could sort themselves out; Holland needed to get this back to the office to appease The Senior Partners.

Angel swung his scythe with all his strength and knocked Voca's weapon out of his hand. He pushed the demon up against the wall and ripped his bronze mask off. There was a hole where the demon's nose should be, and it was rotted through and crawling with maggots. Angel threw the mask down and pushed Voca to the floor.

...

The two attorneys were starting to come round. Lilah was first to her feet and she lunged for the scroll that had fallen out of her hand. She grabbed it and then trained her gun on Lindsey. 'You've lost,' she told him, 'you picked the losing side.'

...

Angel stabbed Voca with his scythe, the demon cried out and then died and left him to it. Now the demon was vanquished, there were more important things to worry about. He turned and saw the stand off between the two lawyers and began to approach them, his scythe held lazily in his right hand. 'Lilah,' he said, she aimed her gun at him instead, and shot. The bullet crashed into his chest and he stumbled backwards.

'I'm not afraid of you,' she told him.

'You should be.'

'Lilah, just gives us the scroll and we'll let you go,' Lindsey said to her, approaching her cautiously whilst her gun was pointed at Angel. She swung it back round to face him.

'You want the scroll?' she asked. 'You left us Lindsey, you sided with him and his whitehats, you've made your choice, I'm making mine.'

'You'll regret it,' Angel warned her.

'Not as much as you.' She held the scroll out towards one of the torches, showing him what she meant to do. 'You need this, your little half breed will die without the words of Anatole. He's already meant to be dead. This is just putting things right.'

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' The vampire said. Lindsey was surprised at how calm he sounded, not only must he be in a lot of pain from the gunshot, but his best friend's life was ebbing away as they stood here chatting. And Lilah was about to destroy his only chance for survival. What card could the vampire have left to play?

Lilah had obviously reached the same conclusion, because she laughed and then stuck her hand out further, letting the flames lick the edge of the scroll. 'It was foretold we would sever your connection to The Powers that Be,' she said.

Angel threw his scythe at her.

Lindsey jumped as the blade whipped past his ear, and then it made contact, severing Lilah's hand from her arm. She fell down, screaming, cradling her bloody stump. Her amputated hand lay on the floor, the scroll still held in its fingers. Angel ignored the screaming woman and removed the sacred parchment, taking it with him as he left without a backwards glance. Lindsey looked down at Lilah in horror, and then hurried on out after him, reminding himself to never again get on the wrong side of this particular vampire. 'You should never believe everything that you're foretold,' Angel said to him, when he caught up.

...

Left alone in the crypt, Lilah screamed out in frustration and pain.

* * *

Kate watched as Angel arrived in the waiting room at the psych unit, he approached the tall, black guy she had noticed earlier and spoke to him. The two men shook hands and then the younger man left. Angel walked up the corridor, 'Kate!' he said, surprised to still see her there.

'Can you save him?' she asked, getting up out of her chair.

He waved the scroll. 'I can save him.'

* * *

Wesley opened up the parchment and found the words of Anatole. Angel and Cordelia, who was still holding onto Doyle's hand, watched on. 'And if the beast shalt find thee, and touch thee, thou shalt be wounded in thy soul and thou shalt know madness,' the watcher read. Cordelia gripped Doyle's hand tighter as Wesley continued. 'The beast shalt attack and cripple thee and thou shalt know neither friend nor family. But thou shalt undo the beast. Thou shalt find the sacred words of Anatole and thou shalt be restored. Three times shalt thou say these words: unbind, unbind, unbind.'

There was a sudden blinding flash of white light.

...

At the nurses station, the nurse looked up. She realised which room the light had come from and stayed where she was. She wasn't going back in there.

...

Doyle blinked his red eyes, seeming to come back to himself as the blinding vision pain began to recede. The team looked down at his hand: the mark was gone, Doyle was cured. His gaze lost the glassy, unfocused look and when he looked towards his friends it seemed like he knew them. 'Hey,' Angel said, smiling down at him.

'Hey,' Doyle croaked back.

'Welcome back.'

'You gave us a real fright,' Wesley said.

Cordelia launched herself onto the demon on the bed, hugging him tightly. 'Don't you ever do that to us again!' she chided, squeezing him. She suddenly let go. 'Ow! Spikes!'

* * *

The nurse had been more than happy to see the back of Doyle as quickly as possible. He had returned to his human face as soon as he realised that he was wearing his demon spikes in public, and Cordelia had called a doctor in. He was given a clean bill of health, though the doctors couldn't understand it, and had wanted to do more tests. They only let him go when he told them he didn't have the insurance to pay for them, but he was given strict warnings about things to stay clear of if he wanted to avoid any more psychotic episodes. He pretended to listen, nodding along solemnly; and then, as soon as they would let him, he got dressed and left the building. The nurse watched him go, wondering if she had imagined what had seen just a few hours ago. This man seemed so ordinary, he couldn't possibly be a hideous monster. She shook her head and decided to forget the whole thing.

* * *

In a twist on their normal routine, it was Cordelia walking Doyle home that night. She had her arm through his, but she was holding on much tighter than usual, as if she was afraid he would collapse and be taken away from her again. 'I'm sorry I let them take you to hospital, Doyle,' she said. 'I hadn't forgotten, I knew how important it was that you not go there in case…'

'Of a scary, ugly hedgehog incident?'

'Exactly! I don't know what I would have done if Kate Lockley hadn't got rid of that nurse. Do you think the government would have come for you?'

'I dunno ...but I'll have to thank her sometime.'

'She really saved us, both of us ...I was so scared.'

'I didn't mean to scare y', darlin'.'

'I know.'

They entered his apartment building and started to climb the stairs, the elevator was still broken. 'I'm just glad they let me go, I don't like hospitals, even if it wasn't for the whole demon thing.'

'Tell me about it, I ended up in a hospital for a couple of weeks, my senior year, after I got impaled on a rebar. I was going crazy.'

'Did you get impaled on a rebar fighting evil by any chance?'

'Sort of ...Spike had kidnapped Xander and Willow and hidden them in his burnt out old factory ...I fell through the stairs when I went to rescue them...' She trailed off as she thought about why she had been running up those stairs. But that didn't matter anymore. If things had gone differently with Xander, then she might not be here now, with Doyle. 'I'll have to show you my scar sometime,' she told him, 'it goes right the way through.'

'Wow! That's pretty impressive. Where is it? Somewhere scandalous?' He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She grinned at him. 'Gross! No. It's pretty much in the same place your stab wound from the gladiator ring is ...I guess we match, his n her's matching scars.'

'Hallmark's missing a trick with those! Y'know most people just get matching pajamas.'

'Well, _we_ are not _most people_.'

'True enough.'

They reached his door and he stopped for a moment to say goodnight. He unlocked the door and began to open it, when she suddenly grabbed hold of him and held him back. 'Hey, Doyle?'

'Yeah?'

'There was something I wanted to say ...it's important.'

'Yeah?'

'When you were in the hospital, I was so afraid you were going to die…'

'I'm sorry…'

She cut him off, 'I know, that's not the important bit. It's just, I thought I was going to lose you, that our time together was going to be over, and I realised that there was something that I was always going to regret, like, in a 'never get over it' sort of way.'

'What was that?'

She took a deep breath. 'I know we're not _together_ together, and that's absolutely right. I stand by that. You're only just getting to the point where you're ready to be in a relationship and even then you owe me money, so we have to wait until you've paid me back…'

He looked at her patiently, wondering where she was going with this.

'But even though we have to wait, _and we do!_ I do know that I want us to be _together_ together, one day, because …

_I love you_

...and I wanted to tell you that, even though we can't do anything about it now, because if anything happens ...to either of us ...I know I'd always regret not mentioning it.'

He looked at her in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. 'I love you, too.'

'Duh!' she reached out and put her hand on his cheek, her stomach was tying itself up in knots but she decided she was going to do this anyway. She leaned forward and kissed him, softly, on the lips. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but it was the best she had ever had. She had never kissed someone practically the same size as her before, it felt surprisingly nice ...equal. She didn't have to go on tiptoes or strain her neck. And she had never kissed with such feeling before, either. She had never felt this way about Xander, she knew now that she had never really loved him, because this; here, now, was more real than anything she had ever experienced.

She stepped backwards and looked at him. He had a dazed expression on his face. He looked pleased though. 'This doesn't change anything,' she told him sternly. He shook his head, no it didn't, nothing had changed. Not really. She smiled at him. 'Happy Birthday, Doyle.'

He nodded and pushed his door open, 'Night, princess,' he said and closed it behind him. She stood in the hallway looking at his closed door for a few moments '...Night, Doyle.'

* * *

The next morning, Angel, Wesley and Cordelia were in the office. Cordelia was making coffee for herself and Wesley, whilst the watcher translated the scroll of Aberjian. Angel was surprised when she handed him a mug as well. 'What's this?'

'Blood.'

He looked at her, and then down at his mug and then back at her. 'Don't be embarrassed,' she said, 'we're family.' Angel smiled and started to drink.

'it might have been the beast of Amalfi,' Wesley said. They both looked at him. 'The creature from the box,' he explained, 'it's a razor toothed, six eyed harbinger of death ...oh, but no. it's due to be raised in 2003 in Reseda.'

'I would have guessed Tazarna,' Angel said drily.

Just then, Doyle walked through the door. They all stared at him. 'What the heck are you doing here?' Cordy demanded.

'It's nice to see you too, princess. I work here.'

' _You_ need to be at home, recuperating.'

'I've recuperated,' he lay down on the green sofa, 'really, I'm fine.'

Cordelia made him a coffee and handed it to him, he took it gratefully. 'So what's goin' on?'

'Wesley's translating.'

'Oh dear,' the watcher said.

'What?' all three heads turned to him in unison.

'You know that word I translated the other day: 'shanshu'?'

'It means death, yeah, bud?'

'Well...actually... 'Shanshu' as a word has its root in many different languages. The most ancient source is proto Bantu and they considered life and death to be the same thing.'

'So what are y' sayin'?'

'For them life and death are a cycle. A thing that is not alive never dies. In order for Angel to die...he will have to live first ...he will have to become human.'

Doyle and Cordelia stared at the watcher... and then turned to stare at the vampire... 'Angel's gonna become human, for real this time?' Cordelia asked.

'The vampire with a soul, once he has fulfilled his destiny will 'shanshu' - _become human_. It's his reward,' Wesley explained.

'Wow! Angel as a human,' said Doyle.

'Pinocchio's gonna be a real boy!'

His three friends stared at him in awed wonder, and Angel smiled back at them. 'That will be nice,' he said.

* * *

Down in the Wolfram and Hart vault, the box from the ritual was stored, right where the beacon had used to stand. Holland and Lilah entered the room. Lilah's left arm was in a sling. 'The Senior Partners were very impressed with your sacrifice,' Holland told her, 'trust me, we will even the score.'

'Yes, we will.'

'And we'll start with the thing in that box.' Holland said.

...

The creature crouched down in the box; naked, confused and afraid. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. It remembered a dark room, a beloved boy, and two pistols firing, betrayal...and then nothingness, blackness. Until it woke up trapped inside this box. It flinched away as Lilah approached. The young attorney put on a soothing voice as she spoke to the creature.

'We are all very pleased you're here,' she bent down and peered through the bars, continuing to talk in her gentle voice. 'I know it's confusing, but it's going to be better soon - a lot better ...Darla.'

**_The End_ **


End file.
